Dare Gone Wrong
by McGeeklover
Summary: It was supposed to be a joke; something to amuse Dean on a boring and huntless night. But instantly, the Winchester's night turn into a life and death situation. Set in S1 after Hell House. Hurt!Sam, Dean massive guilt.
1. Chapter 1

**Dare Gone Wrong**

**Set in S1 after Hell House**

**All mistakes are mine**

**Enjoy, hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural :(**

"No."

"Come on don't be such a wuss, Sammy."

"I'm not a wuss, and quit calling me 'Sammy.'"

"Maybe I will…if you do it."

"Dean, for the last time: no!"

"I'll do it if you do, Sam. Come on, please?"

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms tightly across his chest. He turned away from his pleading brother and thought about the task he was being coerced into doing.

"Why, Dean? Why should I do this?"

"Nothing bad is gonna happen, Sam, it's just a dare. Everyone does it."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm not 'everyone,' in fact I'm not even _normal_, Dean."

"Don't start that up again. We're taking a break from hunting for a couple of days, and I'm bored. This'll give us something to do. So, I rest my case; do the Cinnamon Challenge."

Sam groaned. His brother was never gonna let this go, and he was gonna nag him until the day he died.

"I promise, Sam it's gonna be fun and it's _not_ dangerous…especially compared the things we go up against."

Sam pursed his lips and turned back to his brother. He looked at down at the table between them, eyeing the contents, placed on the surface, warily. There was a container of pure ground cinnamon and a large tablespoon sitting innocently in front of him. He couldn't believe Dean was making him do this; what if something bad happened?

Dean seemed to pick up on the uncertainty in Sam and sighed. "I told you, nothing bad will happen, alright? I promise."

"Fine, but only if you do it afterwards."

"You have my word, Sammy."

"And you'll quit calling me Sammy?"

"Scout's honor."

Sam nodded and took a deep breath.

"Let's get this over with."

Dean's face broke out into a large grin and he clapped his hands together.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Little did Dean know that the so called "boring night" would soon turn out to a night of life and death.

~+SPN+~

"You ready?"

"Not really."

"I'll take that as a yes," Dean smiled as he filled the tablespoon to the brim with the strong smelling cinnamon.

"I'm gonna ask this one more time, Dean: are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course, what could go wrong?"

"Uh, many-"

"Forget I asked. Now here you are," Dean said passing the spoon to Sam.

The younger Winchester sighed as he took the spoon nervously.

"Well, here it goes."

"Oh, hold it; I gotta record this."

"Dean, come on, it's already humiliating enough," Sam whined.

"Too late, you're on the air, Sammy."

Sam groaned and returned his gaze to the cinnamon filled utensil. He took a deep breath and brought the spoon up to his mouth. His heart was beating rapidly, but he knew he shouldn't be this scared about a harmless challenge. Several times he brought the spoon up to his mouth before thinking twice and stalling.

"Come on, Sam, we've been standing here for five minutes and you haven't done anything. Be a man, and eat the damn cinnamon!"

Sam gulped. It was gonna happen sooner or later. Slowly, he transported the spoon closer and closer to his mouth until the cold metal was touching his lips. He could smell the powdery substance, it tickling his nose and almost causing him to sneeze.

"Sam! Let's get a move on; my arm's hurting from holding up my phone."

"Well then maybe you should forget about recording this; in fact maybe we should just forget about the whole thing," Sam laughed nervously.

"Nope, no turning back now, Sam," glared Dean. "Now if you don't do it, I'll shove the whole bottle of cinnamon down your throat instead of just that spoonful."

"Okay, okay, geez!" Sam brought the spoon back to his face. He opened his mouth and slowly inched the spoon into his mouth and clamped down. He closed his eyes and wiped the cinnamon off the spoon. He chewed for a couple seconds before his eyes widened in horror. He leaned forward and coughed, a puff of cinnamon blowing into Dean's face and all over his phone.

"Dude, come on! That's just gross."

Sam smiled a little, but it disappeared when he broke out into another coughing fit. He put his hands on his knees and tried to breathe…but found out he couldn't.

"Hey, Sam you okay?" Dean laughed and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, still not seeing how serious this was getting.

Sam wheezed harshly as he tried spitting out the substance, but there was no saliva left in his, now, completely dry mouth. His eyes were becoming unfocused and watery and to add to his discomfort, he felt like was gonna hurl. Sam started gagging as he blindly made his way to the bathroom in their motel room. Collapsing to his knees by the toilet, he started vomiting his guts out. He vaguely felt a hand on his trembling back and a voice faintly talking to him.

"Sam, you lose the game! You're not supposed to puke," chuckled Dean.

Sam sniffed as he looked up his brother, but he only saw double. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus his vision, but it rendering unsuccessful. He suddenly got a familiar sensation in his stomach and he turned back to the toilet. After another bout of puke, he figured the worse would be over, and he could breathe again. He thought wrong.

Sam's chest started hurting more, actually burning. His head was pounding and he soon realized this whole thing was a _very_ bad idea. He leaned heavily against the wall and heaved himself up onto weak legs.

Dean cocked his head and frowned. Why wasn't Sam saying anything or punching him for making him do such a stupid challenge? He looked at his brother's face and noticed that it was red and snot was dripping out of his nose. It would've been a hilarious site if his breathing didn't sound so…off. Dean's heart stopped, fearing the worse.

"Sammy?" said Dean, his voice immediately laced with concern. His breathing intensified when his brother made no attempt correct him.

"Sam! Can you hear me?"

Sam pushed past him and stumbled back into the bedroom. Why couldn't he breathe and why was his tongue feeling so funny? His hands flew to his throat and he coughed, trying to get himself breathing again. But every time he inhaled, he couldn't get a single breath out. He was going to die, because of Dean and his stupid antics. He could feel hot tears trickling down his face as he searched for something, anything, to help him. Then his blurry vision landed on a familiar face. It looked worried…terrified.

"D-Dea'?"

"Yeah, it's me kid," Sam heard an echoey voice flow through his muddled thoughts. "Are you okay?"

_ No I'm not okay, you idiot! I can't fucking breathe! Call for help already!_ That's what Sam wanted to tell Dean, but he couldn't muster up the energy to do so. So he settled with, "I-I c-can't b-bre-breathe! N-Need wat-wat'"

"Water? Okay, I'll be right- damn it," Dean cursed as he quickly placed two firm hands on Sam's shoulders to keep him from keeling over.

"I'm gonna get you water and some help. Just sit tight, okay?"

But Sam couldn't hear him; he couldn't hear anything for that matter. His hearing was fading, replaced with the sound of waves crashing in his head. His sight was waning also, darkness appearing at the edge of his vision.

Dean saw Sam's lips turning blue and his eyes fluttering close. "No! No, don't you dare close your eyes, Sam! You stay with me you hear?"

No response.

Sam's arms fell limply to his side, his limbs becoming heavier and his motions becoming slower…and so was his breathing

"Damn it, damn it, damn it! Sam!"

Without warning, Sam's knees gave out and started plummeting to the ground. Lucky, Dean's reflexes kicked in and he wrapped an arm across his brother's back, lowering him gently to the floor.

"Sammy?" Dean shouted nervously, patting his unconscious brother's face. He gasped in shock when he felt how cold Sam's face had quickly gotten. He was fading fast. "Shit." Dean pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed for an ambulance.

_"911 what's your emergency?"_

"My name's Dean. My brother, Sam…he's having trouble breathing and…" Dean looked down at Sam's blue tinted face he gasped. For some reason his brother's face suddenly appeared puffy. _No, this couldn't be happening. Since when was his brother allergic to cinnamon? Of all the times and places to find out about this defect, it had to be now. _"He's having an allergic reaction! Hurry, please!"

_"Emergency services are on their way, sir. What did he eat?"_

"Uh, c-cinnamon."

"_Okay, now, is Sam still breathing? Does he have a pulse?"_

Dean gulped and reached shaky fingers to Sam's cold neck. Closing his eyes, he prayed to god that Sam was still alive. He nearly passed out when he felt a dangerously slow and weak beat against his fingers. It wasn't good, but it was better than the alternative.

"Yeah, but only just; it's fading."

"Okay, Dean, do you know CPR?"

_Oh god, Sammy needed CPR? How could he let this happen? How could he be so stupid?"_

"Um, y-yeah I think so."

"Alright. If your brother stops breathing at any given moment before the paramedics show up, I'm gonna need you to give him CPR, can you do that?"

"Alright."

Suddenly, the room got quiet, there was not one sound of raspy and constricted breathing. Dean looked down at Sam and saw that his chest had stopped moving. Dean's blood ran cold, he really hoped he was seeing things or maybe even better, he was having a nightmare. He leaned down next to Sam's face and hovered his ear over his mouth. Immediately his eyes widened in horror, but just to be absolutely sure… Dean placed his numb fingers back on Sam's neck and…

"No, shit no! Sammy? Sam. Come on, don't do this!"

_"Sir, is everything alright?"_

"No, everything's not alright! Sam, he…he stopped breathing!"

_"Okay, just relax, Dean."_

_ I can't fuckin' relax! My brother is dying- no he's dead and you want me to friggin' relax?_

" _Remember what we talked about. Start the compressions to keep his heart pumping."_

"Okay," Dean placed the open phone on the ground next to him and exhaled shakily. He placed one hand over the other on Sam's immobile chest and began pushing down. He tried not to cringe every time he heard Sam's ribs snap and crack, because that was the least of his worries right now.

"Come on, Sam, breathe!" Dean grunted. When he finished, he moved over to Sam's head and sighed. Tilting the kid's head back and pinching his nose, he leaned forward and forced air into Sam's unresponsive lungs. He could taste the cinnamon on his brother's lips and he fell deeper into his pit of self-loathing. For a clever, smart guy, he could be a real dumb-ass. He couldn't believe he forced Sam to do the stupid challenge. If only he knew the consequences beforehand. If only he knew that in any given moment, he could lose his little brother, which he tried so hard to protect, forever.

**TBC**

** Should I continue? I'm not sure if you'll like it, and it was originally gonna be a one-shot but I wasn't sure if it was worth finishing. Let me know with awesome reviews and/or suggestions :) thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**OMG thanks to everyone who read and everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted! I didn't think many people would like the story! But now I know that you do, I will keep going! Here's chapter 2 and I hope you like it! BTW: Never do the cinnamon challenge: worse experience of my life lol! All grammar, spelling, and medical mistakes are mine, so please forgive me if something is wrong (especially the medical stuff) :)**

Sam's face was becoming pale and gray. His blue, and now, swollen lips began to stand out even more than before. Dean was tightly holding his brother's freezing cold hand, rubbing it furiously to try and keep it warm. He'd pretty much given up on CPR, since Sam's neck was swollen and assumed his throat was closed up. No air was gonna get through there.

"Sammy," Dean choked out, trying not to cry. _Where was the fucking ambulance?_ He lifted Sam's upper body into his lap and rocked on his knees. He didn't want to think about how long it had been since his brother stopped breathing and how long before Sam's heart would finally stop. The only reassurance for Dean to know that Sam was hanging on with a thread to life was the very, _very_ weak pulse underneath his fingertips.

"Sam, you stay with me, you hear? Just hang on…please. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have made you do that stupid thing," Dean sniffed as he swept his brother's curly brown out of his eyes. He knew Sam was unconscious, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear. "You can't leave me alone you understand me? You can't leave without knowing how sorry I am; you're not allowed to die! We still have the son of a bitch demon to go after, you can't stop now." He squeezed his brother's prone body as a few tears fell from his eyes. "I'm such an idiot; I can't believe I didn't know you were allergic to- Sam? Sammy?" Dean's heart raced; he couldn't feel a pulse anymore, it was gone. "Sam, don't you dare!" He shook his brother roughly. Sighing in resignation, he was about to start compressions again when he heard the ever so sweet sound of sirens.

"You hear that Sam? You're gonna be okay, just- just don't give up." _Of all the things that could kill Sam, it was fricken cinnamon._ Dean got up hesitantly, really not comfortable leaving his brother, but rushed to the door. He swung it open just in time to see an ambulance pull into the motel parking lot. In a matter of seconds, he filled the paramedics in on Sam's condition and they rushed into the room with a gurney, tubes, and a…a fricken defibrillator! _Just great!_

"Clear!"

Dean winced as he watched Sam's body jerk upwards before limply falling back to the ground.

"No pulse, try 300!"

"Clear!"

"Still no pulse."

_Son of a bitch! Come on Sammy, fight! Please come back!_

"Sir," a voice broke into his thoughts. Dean tore his gaze away from his brother and looked at the paramedic. "How long has he stopped breathing and how long since his heart stopped?"

"U-Um, he stopped breathing eight minutes ago a-and his heart stopped beating umm…three minutes ago."

The paramedics exchanged nervous looks, before one of them turned the dial up to 350.

"What? What's the matter?"

"It's just that- clear!"

Sam's body convulsed again, and this time, both paramedics sighed in relief and began getting Sam ready for transportation.

"Just what?" Dean urged impatiently.

"Deprivation of oxygen for that long could result in some serious brain and heart damage, not to mention the toll that the allergic reaction took on your brother's system."

"Well, i-is he gonna be okay?"

"We can't know for sure, not until we get him to the hospital."

Dean grimaced as one paramedic shoved a tube down Sam's throat and began pumping oxygen into his lungs. The other one wrapped a brace around Sam's neck, then immediately the two of gently moved the lifeless form onto the stretcher. Hastily, they raised it up and wheeled Sam out of the room, pushing past the older brother and making their way to the waiting ambulance. Dean numbly followed, ignoring the stares and murmurs from the other guests of the motel. He even forgot to grab his coat and he shivered against the winter breeze. He didn't care though; there were more important things. Without asking for permission, he began stepping into the ambulance with his brother. He couldn't leave him alone- he wouldn't.

"Excuse me sir, you can't be in here."

"The hell I can't. He needs me, he's my little brother and I'll be damned if you don't let me ride along." Dean glared coldly at the EMT's and they both seemed to crumble after a few seconds.

"Alright, just stay outta the way if things go south."

"_Haven't they already?" _Dean thought guiltily.

~+SPN+~

The ambulance ride was quiet. Well, as quiet as could ever be with the beeping monitors, rumble of the engine and the rasping reverberation of the aided breathing coming from Sam's unconscious body. Dean watched his brother's chest rise and fall in tandem with the machine. He did this; he caused his brother to stop breathing, he caused Sam to die. He swept a shaky hand down his face and closed his eyes, bowing his head in exhaustion. Dean licked his dry lips, still tasting the deadly cinnamon that nearly killed his brother. He had caught a break; he was lucky he hadn't lost his brother and he'd probably never get another chance like this. The next time that anything happened, Sam might not be so fortunate. No, there wasn't gonna be a next time, because Dean would go through hell and high waters to protect his baby brother. Nothing like this would ever occur again. Dean looked back up at the ill looking Sam as he gripped the, still, freezing cold hand.

"I promise, Sammy. I'm gonna stay by you the whole way. I'm gonna take care you and I don't care what it takes to make that possible. But the only way that'll happen is if you pull through this for me, okay? Just keep fightin' kid."

Suddenly the unexpected happened. The beeping of the heart monitor sped up slightly and it made Dean nervous. There were only two reasons that that would be happening. One: Sam could hear him and he was acknowledging that he could; or two, because Sam was dying faster. But, thankfully, neither of them came true; to Dean's delight, Sam's eyelids flickered open, revealing unfocused brown eyes.

"Sam?" Dean breathed.

Sam blinked heavily as he scanned his surroundings listlessly.

"Sam, can you hear me?"

Instead of answering, though, Sam coughed- as much as he could with the breathing tube in his throat- and his forehead creased in pain.

"Take it easy, buddy. You're gonna be okay, you can't get rid of me that easy," Dean grinned.

"De-" Sam managed to grunt out after his coughing fit ceased.

"I'm so sorry, buddy. I'm such a jerk for making you do that stupid challenge."

Sam blinked, maybe in response maybe not, but Dean liked to think it was his brother's way of answering…or forgiving. Dean pursed his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he stroked his thumb across Sam's curled palm. Dean was so engrossed with watching Sam, that he didn't even noticed his brother's heart rate deteriorating, the beeping growing slower and slower. But Sam seemed to notice it…he knew he was weakening. Not wanting to alarm his brother, he smiled as wide as he could.

"That's it, kid. Keep your hopes up. You're going to make it and that's an order."

"Th-thorry," Sam managed to say with the tube.

Dean angled his head in confusion, his smile disappearing slowly. "Sorry? What are you sorry for, Sammy?"

"…"

Then a light bulb went off in Dean's head. _He's saying sorry for giving up, idiot! Come on get your head straight, Dean!_

"No! No, Sam don't you fucking dare! I swear to god if you do-"

Sam's eyes suddenly rolled to the back of his head as his body began shuddering intensely.

"He's crashing! Get the paddles and charge it to 300! 'Scuse me, sir, you're gonna have to move to the back so we can get Sam stable."

Dean reluctantly let go of his brother's hand and watched it fall limply and off the side of the gurney. He watched it swing lifelessly with the motion of the vehicle. It brushed the paramedic's legs as they moved around quickly to revive Sam. He desperately wanted to hold his brother's hand, because he promised he'd be with him every second of the way. A couple tears made it out of his sore eyes, the dam was cracking; he wouldn't be able to hold in the emotions any longer…if he did he might explode. He laid his head in his hands and tried to block out the sounds of shouting paramedics, the paddles against Sam's bare chest shocking the unresponsive heart and the ever so depressing flat monotone of the monitor. The only thing that brought him back to the chaotic situation was someone saying:

"Time of death: 10:51 pm."

Dean head shot up in horror. _Fuck._

**TBC**

***Laughs evilly* I can't believe I did that! Is Sam dead, or will a miracle happen? Even if Sam did live, there could be lots of brain damage, but wait- I'm the author so maybe I'll be nice and something good will happen…read to find out ;) SPOILER: I could **_**never**_** kill Sammy, because I'd never forgive myself if I did; so now you know. Sam won't die! Review :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**I love you all! Thanks for all the awesome reviews and favorite stories alerts, they always make my day :) Before I begin, I wanna say that I wasn't sure if Sam would be going to heaven or hell, so I just guessed hell cause it seemed like a possibility with his background. On with the story!**

_Son of a bitch!_

"No!" Dean shouted angrily as he jumped out of his seat and rushed over to his brother. _This can't be happening. This can't be happening. Sam can't be dead, not after all that had happened._ He nearly collapsed on his brother's unmoving body as he tried frantically to revive him. He shook Sam vigorously, but it wasn't working. His brother was…no, he wasn't gonna give up; he wasn't gonna let Sammy give up, not if he could help it.

"Sammy, don't you die on me, don't you _fuckin'_ dare die. Get your ass back here right now or I swear to god I'll march right into hell and drag you back myself, you hear me? Sam!" Dean firmly grabbed his brother's cheeks and shook his face violently, bringing it practically nose to nose with his own. Instantly, all the panic filled anger dissolved and replaced with guilt and misery.

"Sammy," Dean groaned as he brought Sam's head up to his chest and hugged him closely like there was no tomorrow. To Dean, there wouldn't be if Sam didn't wake up. He shuddered against Sam's ice cold bare skin; the kid felt like a friggin popsicle! _I blew it, I fucking blew it!_ He stroked Sam's lifeless hair numbly as his body was wracked tremors.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. Please don't leave me by myself. God only knows where dad is now, but when we get back together again, we need to go after this thing together. You can't quit on me now, Sammy. Don't quit on this fight." _Oh god, dad is gonna friggin' kill me when he hears what happens. He's gonna be even more pissed when he hears it wasn't even anything supernatural._

"Sir you're gonna have to let him-"

"No! I'm not leaving him; I'm not givin' up on him!"

"It's too-"

Suddenly, a weak bleep brought all three men to attention. Dean held his breath tightly, wondering what the hell was going on with his brother's body. He brought his ear to Sam's chest and smiled. His heart was beating again. It was weak… extremely weak, but it was there; Sam was alive.

"Sam?"

"I-I don't believe it…he's- he's back!" Exclaimed one EMT in shock. But he wasted no time in awe; the kid needed _serious_ medical attention.

Dean was shoved back into the corner as Sam's body was pried out of his grip. He was too stunned to even notice. He was too shocked to notice that the ambulance had screeched to a stop until he saw Sam being wheeled away into the E.R. He didn't even remember following the group of medical personnel until he was forced to stay in the waiting room. He was in utter shock that he didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until a nurse was shouting at him to breathe. He couldn't though, he was just frozen, and the next thing he knew, his vision went black and he felt himself descending into nothingness.

~+SPN+~

"Sir. Dean, can you hear me?"

Dean groaned in irritation as a bright light was flashed into his eyes. He squinted, slamming his eyes shut, as it disturbed the pain in the back of his head. He wiped a weary hand across his face as a thought came to light. _How would doctors know his name? He didn't remember having any I.D. with him. Maybe it was all a dream and he slammed his head against something after being thrown by the ghost they were chasing. Just maybe Sam was worriedly trying to wake him up so they could leave. His life would be _heaven_ if this whole thing was one big nightmare. There was only one way to find out._

Dean slowly blinked his eyes open and looked around. Bleach white walls instead of ugly puke green ones and the strong smell of floor cleaner instead of burgers, smoke, and dirty clothes. _Well, he could wish couldn't he?_ Dean groaned in frustration as he started to sit up, only to be restrained by a hand.

"Sir, you need to lie down. You hit your head rather hard when you passed out."

_ When did he pass out? Where did this stupid oxygen mask come from? Why wasn't anyone telling him a damn thing? Maybe Sammy will have some answers. Wait, Sam?_ Everything came flooding back to him and his mind instantly went into big brother overdrive mode. The boredom, the challenge, Sam not breathing, Sam dead._ Was Sam dead? He couldn't be. The kid must have overreacted and brought Dean to the hospital, right? No that could only happen in dreams. Sam never got injured in his dreams, but in reality…_

Dean sat up quickly, ignoring the wave of dizziness and tried to get off of whatever he was laying on.

"Sir!"

Dean ripped off the oxygen mask, eager to start bombarding, who he assumed was, his doctor with questions.

"Where's my brother? Where's Sam? He was just here a moment ago, so where the hell is he?"

"Dean, calm down."

"How do you know my name?" Dean demanded.

The doctor pressed his lips together as he pulled out two I.D cards.

"My name is Dr. Mackey. Are you not Dean Bravo and your brother, Sam Bravo?"

"Oh…yeah that's us. Where is Sam, I have to see him."

"I understand that, but recognize that Sam is in critical condition. It's a miracle he made it this far, never mind come back to life after four minutes. Some people are not so lucky."

Dean gulped as he looked down at the floor. _Yeah, Sam was damn lucky._

"I'm really baffled on how Sam survived after being dead for that long and I'm not gonna lie: the time he was dead in the motel combined with the time he was dead in the ambulance can lead to brain damage, which can very well be a huge factor in your brother's condition."

_Dead. Dead. Dead. _Every single time the doctor said that word, it was like a stake to Dean's heart. Sam had died one too many times tonight, and Dean didn't plan on it ever happening again. He wouldn't allow it.

"He also had a dangerous reaction to the cinnamon he ingested which caused his throat to close up and go into anaphylactic shock while in surgery."

"Wait, is he out?"

"Yes, but he's in the CCU for now so we can keep a close watch on him. After twenty-four hours we'll move him to ICU; and if he remains stable after another twenty-four hours, we'll move him to a private room."

"But is- please tell me he's going to be okay."

"I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, Dean," began the doctor sadly, "there is a 63% chance your brother won't make it. Even if he did, the recovery process will be very difficult. His body has been through a lot, but as far as we know, Sam if fighting very hard to live-"

_That's my boy._

"And it will be touch-and-go for the next forty eight hours."

Dean nodded and bit his lip nervously. Sam was gonna be okay, but for how long?

"Can-" but then he caught himself; he didn't want to sound desperate. "I wanna see him."

The doctor looked hesitant, but seeing the weary and scared look on the man's face made him succumb. He knew the guy was trying to be brave, but the truth was, he could see right past the "bad boy" facade. Dean looked like he was about to break any moment if he wasn't given answers.

"I'll allow you to stay with him ten minutes of every hour until he's moved into ICU; after that, you can visit longer. We really have to keep a keen eye on your brother in case anything unexpected pops up."

"W-What do you mean," Dean's voice wavered in dread.

"Well, with Sam's condition and the way that his lungs were affected, he could develop serious bacterial pneumonia and some future breathing problems. They could be temporary or they could be permanent; either way, we can't know for sure after the first twenty four hours are past. So, do you think you can walk?"

_For Sammy? Hell, yeah. I'd do anything for him. I could have a fatal gunshot wound, broken leg and have a serious concussion, and that still won't stop me from getting to my little brother._

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sam's the one you need to worry about." Dean jumped off of the gurney, swayed a bit before regaining his composure, before being led by the doctor to his brother's room. He was so eager to finally be able to see his brother, but truth was, he was scared to see what the kid would look like. He doesn't scare easily, but this…this was just absolutely petrifying.

~+SPN+~

His heart beat louder and harder- so hard it hurt- with every step he took closer to Sam's room. _How could he let this happen? They'd both be sleeping peacefully right now if he hadn't practically forced his brother into eating the cinnamon. What was dad gonna say to him…well if he answers his calls for once. God damn it, where was dad when he needed him the most. Literally, everything was going to hell._

"Here we are," a voice tore Dean out of his thoughts. He suddenly realized that they were outside a huge room, separated by a glass window and a sliding door not too far to the left. Dean peered through the glass and his breathing hitched. He could feel all the blood in his body just plummet to his feet as soon as he took in his brother's appearance. But that could not be his brother; that could not be Sam. He looked so…broken and small. He put a trembling hand on the glass as his bottom lip quivered.

Dr. Mackey sighed in sympathy, his heartbreaking for the kid. He really wished he didn't have to send Dean away from his brother; he wished he allowed the older brother to stay with him, because it looked like he might fall apart if he was ripped away from Sam. It was a brotherly bond he'd never understand; a brotherly bond he yearned to have with his younger brother. He knew exactly how Dean felt; feeling the need to be their brother's keeper and protect them 24/7. But the stupid hospital rules went against him, and he needed to stick to them.

"I'll send a nurse in when it'll be time for you to leave for the hour."

Dean didn't acknowledge the statement, he just kept staring at his brother and unaware of what was going on around him. Mackey took a deep breath and pat Dean's back in assurance before turning to leave.

"Sammy," Dean whispered when he sensed the doctor was out of sight. Quietly, he stepped through the sliding doors, proceeding cautiously to Sam's bedside.

"Oh god," he whispered. He dragged a chair over to the bed and slowly lowered himself into it. "Oh god, Sammy." He looked his brother over from head to toe; Sam's face, though it was no longer puffy, had red splotches scattered all over it and that god damn breathing tube was still down his throat, supporting his weak and damaged lungs. Sam's forehead was layered with sweat, causing his long, curly bangs stick to his face.

"I'm so sorry kiddo." He grabbed Sam's hand, relieved to finally feel the warmth of life pulsing through it, and gently rubbed it with his thumb back and forth.

"You better come through Sam, or I'll never forgive myself."

A soft knock at the door made him look up slowly.

"I'm sorry, Dean, but the ten minutes is up," nurse said sympathetically. "I'll be glad to come and let you know when you can return in an hour."

Dean quirked a smile and nodded silently. He sighed heavily as he wiped the bangs out of Sam's eyes and squeezed his shoulder gently before leaving the room. Now he knew what he had to do; just hopefully he would be successful. It was time to call dad.

**TBC**

** Next chapter will be up soon; time to bring in john :) Boy is he gonna rip Dean a new one! Hope u continue reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Omg! Only like two episodes left til season 7 is over and I hope to the almighty god that they make a season 8 or I'll be very, very unhappy, wouldn't you? Anyways, this time I'm replying to people's reviews :)**

**CeCe Away: Yeah I feel so bad that Dean has to make that call lol, but it is his fault right?**

**Brynerose: I squeaked too when I saw ur comment haha. I too have a very weak spot for Sam and I've only been watching SPN for 2 months now haha! And don't worry haha, Sam's definitely not outta the woods. ;)**

**Judyann: Thanks for loving it! That makes me happy! :)**

**Now…ON WITH THE STORY! :) Enjoy!**

_"This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean at 866-907-3235." _

_ *Beep*_

"Dad? It's me, Dean. God I really screwed up this time dad and I have no idea what to do. Please if you get this, we're at Methodist Richardson Medical Center in Texas. Sam died, dad…twice and it's my fault. He's okay now but, the-the doctor doesn't know how long he'll survive. Dad we need you, Sam needs you…_I_ need you. I can't deal with this alone; I don't know if I can handle losing another family member and I know you can't either. So please, if you can get here immediately…"

Dean trailed off sniffing as he snapped the phone shut and wiped his misty eyes with the back of his hand. He looked up into the sky and took a deep breath, trying not to cry. After a couple minutes of composing himself, he checked his watch and saw that he had at least twenty minutes before he could go see Sam again. He was getting very agitated, though, and worried; what if something bad happened and he wasn't there? What if Sam died again and he stayed that way…for good. It was a miracle his brother had survived earlier, but he wasn't sure if Sam's body could take another beating.

Maybe coffee could calm his nerves…who was he kidding? Nothing, but knowing that Sam was going to make it, would call his nerves, not even a beer. Even so, he was exhausted and knew he was no good to his brother if he passed out. Dean wiped his mouth as he trudged back into the hospital and up to the cafeteria. The next twenty minutes were going to go by agonizingly slow and Dean _was not_ a patient person. He paced the waiting room nervously, wondering why the clock was moving so slowly. Maybe it purposely wanted him to lose his mind, rip the damn thing off the wall, and smash it into a million pieces. Maybe it-

"Mr. Bravo?"

Dean's head shot up, his heart skipping a beat. He found himself looking at the familiar nurse who, earlier, had told him to leave for the hour.

"You can go back and sit with your brother if you'd like."

Dean's spirit's lifted a little once he heard this, and he was eager to go and not waste precious time. He removed his trembling hands from his pockets and briskly walked down the hall back to his brother's room.

~+SPN+~

**Somewhere in Phoenix, Arizona**

John came back to his truck after a long night of tracking the demon's trail. He was getting closer and it was only a matter of time before- *ding!* John flinched a little, but realizing it was just his phone indicating a new voicemail. Probably from his son; god, he wished he could answer his calls, but he couldn't. He also, sort of, wished that they didn't part after killing Meg, but like Dean said, he was vulnerable when he was with the two. He flipped open his cell and pressed the _listen_ button.

"_Dad? It's me, Dean."_

"Figures," Thought John, inwardly rolling his eyes.

"_God I really screwed up this time dad and I have no idea what to do." _

"What is he talking about?" he thought as his heart beat hard against his chest in immediate concern.

"_Please if you get this, we're in Methodist Richardson Medical Center in Texas. Sam died, dad…"  
_

John's breathing hitched. "Son of a bitch!" He longed for Dean to burst out laughing, and for it all to be some sick, twisted joke. Yeah he'd be infuriated, but at least it wouldn't be true. He hastily jumped into his car and started the engine, tearing out of the dirt shoulder.

"…_twice…" _

Fuck! Twice? What the hell did they get themselves into?

"…_and it's my fault." _

What the hell did you do Dean?

"_He's okay now…"_

Thank god.

"…_but, the-the doctor doesn't know how long he'll survive." _

Like hell he'll die, not if I have any say in it.

"_Dad we need you, Sam needs you…I need you."_

I'm coming, Dean, don't worry. Sam. Will. Not. Die.

"_I can't deal with this alone; I don't know if I can handle losing another family member and I know you can't either."_

"…"

"_So please, if you can get here immediately…"_

He heard Dean sigh and then hang up. What the hell was going on with their life? When he caught the evil Sonofabitch that did this to his Sammy, he blast it like there was no tomorrow. He slammed on the gas, bound for Richardson, Texas for his boys.

~+SPN+~

He didn't know why, but he kept his hopes up and prayed that Sam would be awake and lucid. He really needed to see that his brother was okay and most of all, he really needed to apologize; his heart was laden with guilt. But once he stopped in front of the glass windows, his heart sunk; Sam looked exactly as he had an hour ago.

_Damn it Sammy, wake up already! Get your lazy ass out of bed!_

Once again, he sat down and grabbed Sam's hand.

"You really have to wake up, man. What the hell is going on inside your big college-boy head, huh? Maybe you should be a little smarter and open your eyes before your big brother kicks your ass."

Nothing.

"You'll be glad to hear that the stupid breathing tube will come out soon. Once you pass the "test" here, they're gonna move you to a different room and then I can stay with you longer."

Silence.

"You should see your nurse, she's H-O-T: hot! Boy, I'd hit that, but she cares more about you then me, lucky you, right?"

…

"Dude, come on!"

*Knock, Knock*

Dean looked up, startled, and saw Sam's nurse. He knew that look on her face. _Damn._

He turned back to his motionless brother and sighed. "Well, you lost your chance to see my awesome face for another hour. I'll be back soon, okay?"

Nothing…as he expected.

He got up from the chair and solemnly left the room. He wondered though: did dad get his message?

~+SPN+~

As much as he wanted to keep seeing his brother, he thought it was pointless to just go in and out for twenty-four hours. So he decided to make use of his time and go back to the motel to grab their stuff.

After the taxi had dropped him off in front of his motel room, Dean stood quietly in the doorway, looking at the scene before him. The stench of cinnamon- that fucking cinnamon- and puke, filled the air, making his nose scrunch in disgust. The said cinnamon was sitting innocently on the table while the spoon lay on the floor. He sighed and decided to get in and out of the room as quick as possible. He didn't need a reminder of what happened.

In five minutes, he packed his and Sam's stuff and loaded it into the Impala. He decided he'd just drive around, get something to eat, and think for a while until he was able to be back at the hospital full-time. Surprisingly, the time flew by.

"I guess time flies when you're having fun," Dean thought sarcastically.

He drove back to the hospital and walked up to Sam's room, just in time to see a couple nurses and Dr. Mackey wheeling a still unconscious Sam out of the room.

"Ah, Dean, there you are," said the doctor. "Just in time, your brother has made it past the first twenty-four hours, and I must say it's an enigma. But, I'm not complaining and I'm sure you aren't either. Your brother has a better chance of surviving, plus the breathing tube was able to be removed since he's strong enough to breathe on his own. If you'll follow us, we're gonna get Sam settled into his new room."

Dean gulped and bobbed his head; finally things were going right with the world…just hopefully it stayed that way. The group went down the elevator, long hallways, and sharp corners before entering Sam's new room. Dean, much to his discretion, was forced to wait out in the hallway while they got his brother comfortable.

After about, what seemed like hours, the nurses left and Dr. Mackey emerged.

"You're brother, though still unconscious, is improving little by little, but there are some early signs of pneumonia developing. We have him on antibiotics now and hopefully it will reduce his currently high risk fever and other infections that could pop up. His breathing will sound a bit rough for a while, but that's to be expected. If he wakes up, do not stress him out. You can go in now, if you'd like, but if anything happens, press the call button immediately."

Dean agreed as he quickly stepped into the room. At last he could stay with Sam as long as he wanted. He sat heavily in the chair and rubbed his face in exhaustion. He stared at his brother for a moment before smiling sadly and ruffling the kid's floppy hair that was already all over the place. He scooted closer and placed his hand on Sam's; he interlocked his fingers with Sam's curled ones and gently squeezed.

"You gotta wake up, buddy. I-I called dad and, um…well I don't know if he'll come or not, but…oh god what have I done?" Dean sighed and shook his head. But five minutes later found him passed out uncomfortably in the chair, snoring away. Little did he know his dad _had _listened to his voicemail and was now only a mile away from the hospital.

~+SPN+~

"Dean, wake up."

He felt someone shaking his shoulder violently and he figured it was a nurse- probably some strict, ugly, muscular, deep voiced one named Greta. Why couldn't they just leave him the hell alone?

"Son of a bitch, Dean, wake the hell up!"

Wait, he knew that voice; it sounded like…shit.

Dean blinked his eyes open, only to meet his dad's bearded face…his dad's _angry_ bearded face.

"Dad!" He said in surprise, jumping out of the chair; this was something he'd never expected would happen.

"What the hell is this?" He growled gesturing to Sam.

"Dad I can explain, I-"

"Why is he even here in the first place? What happened?"

Dean hesitated, feeling like a five year old being scolded for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

"Well?"

"I-I made him do the Cinnamon Challenge. It was just a stupid dare, it wasn't supposed to be dangerous, but then it stopped him from breathing and then I found out he was allergic to it, then-"

John looked like he was about to blow a gasket. "You're telling me that this had absolutely _nothing_ to do with hunting? It wasn't a Wendigo or a Shritga or anything else supernatural for that matter?"

"Yessir."

"God damn it, Dean, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't think-"

"Obviously you didn't, then. Dean, what the hell was going through your brain-" John pointed vigorously to his head-"when you forced your brother to do such a dangerous and foolish thing? It's bad enough that you two could die every time you hunt something, but this? This was just careless, this was childish, Dean!"

"Dad keep it down," Dean hissed, worried that his brother might hear them; but his dad kept on going.

"I swear, Dean, I thought you knew better than this; I thought you were smarter than this. Obviously I can't trust you like I used to be able to do."

That made Dean snap. He already felt bad enough, he didn't need his dad bringing him down. "I didn't know, dad, okay? I didn't fucking know and I'm sorry! We were just trying to entertain ourselves."

"You mean _you_ wanted to entertain yourself. You just wanted to use your brother for a comic relief, but you didn't think ahead of the consequences."

"For the last time I didn't know! We were just trying to have fun!"

"And look where that got your brother."

"Son of a bitch, dad I-"

"D'n?"

Both men stopped their bickering and turned to the bed behind them. Dean rushed over to his brother's side and rubbed Sam's forehead while John went to the other side. He winced and inhaled sharply when it felt like he was touching a furnace. Sam's flushed face was covered in sweat and lined with pain. The infection was really kicking in.

"Sammy? Can you hear me, kid?"

Sam groaned weakly, the sound coming out scratchy and dry. "D-Dean?"

"I'm right here, man, its okay. Just open your eyes for me, okay?"

Sam's eyes flickered sluggishly open, revealing unfocused and fever-ridden eyes.

"D'n?"

"Hey, sleepy-head, how're you doing?" Dean smiled.

"D-don' feel s'good," Sam slurred.

"I know, kiddo, I know."

Sam grunted in discomfort and squeezed his eyes shut. His chest hurt like hell, his throat was burning, his breathing felt constricted, and he felt like he was in an oven. Dean knit his brows together in sighed heavily. He felt extremely bad for his little brother. Sam reopened his eyes and looked up at Dean; it was the only thing that would keep him conscious at the moment.

"W-where am I?"

"The hospital," Dean whispered.

"Why?"

Dean gulped nervously.

"Because your brother is a careless jerk and only cares about his satisfaction," grunted John.

Dean ground his teeth together, trying not to burst out in front of Sam and stress him out…but it was difficult. Sam frowned and turned his head feebly to the other voice.

"Dad? W-What are you doing here?"

"Setting your brother straight; it seems that he put you here?"

"W-What do you mean?" Sam said.

Dean anxiously looked at the heart monitor, seeing that Sam's heart rate was escalating.

"Dad, we can talk about this later, but Sam-"

"Why can't you be responsible, Dean? When I told you to look after your brother, when I told you to let nothing happen to him, you do something that made us nearly lose him…for good. Just do your job and nothing else!"

"Dad, shut up! I know what I did; you don't have to keep reminding me about it!" Dean said angrily, walking up to his dad. He normally wouldn't do this, but this was about Sam.

"Do you know how much this is delaying us from finding that demon? I was getting close and now because of this, I may have lost its trail."

"Guys," Sam croaked, breathing rapidly. It looked like they forgot he was even there. Now he was in Dean's position; usually him and his dad were fighting and forgetting about Dean, but now the roles were switched.

"Would you stop thinking about the fucking demon for a second? God, your son is sick and maybe dying and all you can think about is the fucking demon! Right now, I could care less about killing it, in fact, I hope we never find it if we lose Sam. I couldn't give a damn about it."

"Dean," Sam's chest was heaving. He couldn't breathe for some reason and he couldn't get his brother's or his dad's attention.

"I don't care very much for your tone these days, Dean. Don't you dare say that! You know how much we've worked for this; your brother wants it dead just as much as I do!"

"Dad." He felt weird and cold. Something wasn't right.

"Oh, so now you're deciding what he wants? You know what? I'm glad he went to college, so he wouldn't have to listen to your damn orders all day. The kid was finally sticking up for himself. In fact, maybe I shoulda done the same thing!"

"Why you ungrateful Sonofabitch! You-" John was cut off when the alarms from the machines started blaring. The two older men looked down at Sam and gasped.

"Sam! Sammy?" Dean exclaimed as he pressed the call button. Sam's eyes were rolling to the back of his head and his body started convulsing on the bed.

"Nononono, damn it dad, now look what you did!" Dean grabbed Sam's bouncing hand with one hand and placed his other on his brother's forehead. He was only there for a couple seconds until some nurses and a very unhappy looking doctor came into the room and pushed him and his dad out. The two watched from the glass window as they tried to get Sam stable. They had been so caught up in ripping each other's heads off that they completely forgot about Sam. They completely forgot that his heart and his body were weak and couldn't take too much stress. Now look what was happening. This day was just getting worse and worse, and he was screwing up a lot more than he'd ever done in his entire life.

**TBC**

** God damn it John how could you have done this? Will Sam live? I don't know…who am I kidding I should know, I'm writing it! And of course he'll live lol it's me we're talking about, I could never kill off Sammy. Stay tuned and don't forget the comments!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Sorry for the long wait, no fricken internet at my mom's! :( Had to update at school lol :)**

**Okay, a part of this story might be a little confusing so I'm gonna explain it to ya: so both Dean and John are gonna get a call from the hospital( a couple minutes apart) but I'm gonna put both their reactions/responses in one paragraph. Does that make sense? Well anyways, **_slanted_** is the doctor BOLD is John and **_**slanted bold**_** is Dean, alright? I hope that makes sense to you guys so enjoy this next chapter! :)**

Dean and John watched in fear as the doctors desperately tried to resuscitate Sam. Before they knew it, the two could hear the weak sound of the heart beating on the monitor. Dean closed his eyes and took a weary breath

_God damn it, how many times has this kid died? This never should have happened in the first place. What the hell were they fucking thinking? He knew that the littlest amount of stress thrown Sam's way in his current condition would result in deadly consequences. He really should not have let his dad get under his skin like that or at least they should've taken the fight outside._

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat and the two older men turned around, only to face a very unhappy looking Dr. Mackey.

"We got your brother stable, but because of whatever happened between you too," he said waving a finger at them, "his stress levels went through the roof." Then he looked at John; he'd never seen him before.

"And who are you?"

"I'm John, Sam's father," John said gruffly. He really hated hospitals.

"Well, anyways, I don't know what went on between you two, but it needs to stop. Our staff could hear you all the way down the hallway and now you both are delaying your brother's recovery. We also had to intubate Sam _again_ after we restarted his heart- which was a miracle we were able to do so- because he, once again, stopped breathing. This is a major setback for Sam and now his chances of surviving are slim. I suggest you two work out whatever tiff you have with each other during the time you are banned."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, banned?" Dean questioned

"You heard me; until I feel that Sam is strong enough, considering if he makes it through the night or not, I hereby forbid you both from seeing him. I will let you know when you can return and I'll also update you on his progress.

"You can't keep me from seeing my own son!" John shouted.

"Sir, this is my hospital, therefore my rules." Then Dr. Mackey's face softened. "Look, if you truly care about Sam, then you won't fight me. Your brother- your son, he needs peace and quiet; the arguments just will make it worse. He needs your support; think about that." The doctor sighed and left the two older Winchesters alone.

Dean sighed angrily and wiped his hand down his face. He turned to his dad and gave him a look of disappointment and disgust.

"You just _had_ to start a fight in front of Sam. You couldn't have waited three fucking minutes to get outside? What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean turned and stalked off.

"Dean-" John said, placing a firm hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean jerked away violently. "Don't…just-" Dean shook his head and kept on walking until he was out of his dad's sight.

John sighed tiredly and scratched his beard. What the HELL was he thinking? He weakly sank into a nearby chair and put his head in his hands. He ruined _everything_; why is it that he ruined everything? His youngest son was probably dying now because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. God John you're such a fucking ass. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes to rid the tears that were already trickling down his cheek. He needed to make things right…immediately.

~+SPN+~

Dean got into the Impala and slammed the door. For a moment, he sat quietly before he began pounding his clenched first on the steering wheel. He knew he was being given strange looks by the passersby, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered right now, but Sam. When he finished, he laid his face in his hands and let the dam break, tears flowing out like a river.

_God damn it, Sammy, I'm so sorry. I never should have called dad, then maybe you wouldn't be getting worse._

After what seemed like hours, Dean lifted his head and wiped his face. Sniffing, he decided he needed to clear his head. Unstable hands put the car in reverse and peeled out of the hospital parking lot. There was someplace he felt he really needed to go.

~+SPN+~

"I know I don't do this very often…actually, I never do this…umm, damn it why is this so difficult?"

Dean was sitting on the church bench; his hands weaved firmly together, as they trembled violently. He had to pray. He felt that God should owe him and Sam after all the shit they've been through.

"You can't friggin' take Sam away from me…please. He's all I have and I don't wanna lose him. I don't know if I could live with him gone; in fact, I _know_ I won't be able to. If you take him, I might as well get on the same train. My dad? Well, he's always been better off without us, anyways, it's not like it'd be a huge change for the man." Dean exhaled and stopped for a moment. His dad could take this demon out by himself, right? He was obsessed with the damn thing; he'd beat the son of a bitch to pulp when he found him.

"I'm beggin' you, we have a fight to end and I bet Sammy wouldn't be too thrilled if he wasn't a part of it. So…just give him another chance and…and I have to apologize to him, if he dies, it won't mean anything to a…to a d-dead body," he finished in a choked voice.

He sighed inwardly as he stood up and left the church, feeling that there was nothing else he could say or do. He breathed in the fresh wintry air and paused. He had no idea what to do next; he couldn't go back to the hospital- there was no point in going if he couldn't see his brother- and he didn't feel it was safe to drive in the unstable condition that he was in. He looked up and down the street and to his left, he noticed a small motel village. _Well, I guess a little pay-per-view T.V will kill the time_. He walked to the building, leaving his car in the church parking lot, and walked into the office.

"One room with a king sized bed, please," he said quietly to the blonde haired lady. She flashed him a flirtatious grin, but he was in no mood to return it. Her smile instantly disappeared, noticing the somber look on the cute guy's face.

"Is everything alright?" She asked with concern.

Dean looked up and gave his credit card to the young lady.

"Umm, y-yeah j-just tired. My brother he's- he's in the hospital and, uh, it's not looking too good." He could feel the tears well up in the corner of his eyes, but he had to keep a brave face on…at least until he was alone.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. You can stay as long as you want to, free of charge," the blonde said, sliding the piece of plastic back to Dean instead of signing him in.

"A-are you serious? Thanks, it- it helps to be near the hospital in case something…in case something happens to him, you know?"

The girl nodded sadly and gave him the room key. "Here you are, sir, and enjoy your stay. I'll be praying for your brother…"

"Sam."

"Sam. I sure hope he gets better."

"Thanks." Dean smiled weakly and left the office, making his way to his room.

When he finally got into the safety of the enclosed space, he bolted to the bathroom, suddenly feeling nauseous. After he was done upchucking everything he may have eaten- not that it was much- he wiped his mouth and stumbled to the bed, collapsing on it heavily. He immediately passed out, not even bothering to remove his boots or get under the sheets. He. Was. Exhausted.

~+SPN+~

John walked down the road quietly, thinking about…well everything. He really screwed things up with his boys, and he felt it was, mostly, with his eldest. Speaking of Dean, he had no idea where the hell the kid went. He figured, though, that his son was cooling off and clearing his head, which was probably a good thing, because Dean had sounded like he wanted to rip him apart. Dean was absolutely pissed at him, but who could blame the guy? He completely ruined his younger son's recovery and no doubt weighed down Dean with more guilt that he didn't need.

He passed a building and it instantly caught his eye; a building that looked very much like a bar. He put himself in reverse until he was standing near the entrance. A young couple, maybe no more than twenty three years old each came stumbling out of the bar…and it was only three in the afternoon. He almost wondered why anyone would be drinking at this time of day, but he remembered the days when he'd do the same. It was only a week or two after Mary's death when he started. But all that washed away when the sweet smell of alcohol wafted under his nose. He wanted a drink…like he desperately _needed_ a drink to drown out his guilt and shame. But something was telling him it was a bad idea, that it would just make things a whole lot worse.

He sighed in resignation as he averted his eyes away and kept walking. He didn't care where; he just needed to get away from the alcohol before he changed his mind. No too far down to the right he saw a motel village. He figured he could just wait it out there until he was able to see his son or if he found Dean. Running a hand through his hair, he started toward the motel. After checking in, getting the keys and entering his, not so luxurious, room, he sat down on the bed and took his phone out for the twentieth time. No missed calls and no voicemails…as expected. He went to contacts and scrolled down to Dean; hesitating, his finger hovered over the call button before deciding against it and hitting cancel. Dean would call when he was ready.

~+SPN+~

**1 ½ days later**

His head hurt, his throat hurt, his chest hurt, his whole body hurt. Why did everything hurt? He could vaguely make out some sort of beeping sound near his left ear and as he started to come to, he felt something shoved down his throat. Now he was in pain _and_ scared; he couldn't breathe, why couldn't he breathe? Then a thought popped into his mind: where was Dean? Had they been hunting and the whole thing gone south? Was he hurt? Was Dean? He had to find out, but he felt so heavy, so weighted down by nothing. He sensed his breathing increase, coming out it short gasps and in seconds, something touched him gently, delivering words of comfort. Was it Dean? No, it was a more feminine voice…he wanted his older brother, so the soft whispers did nothing to calm his nerves.

"I need help in here!" He heard the voice yell. God! Couldn't they just shut up? His head was already pounding. He felt more hands wrap around his arms and legs, trying to keep him from moving. Then another voice materialized; it was a much deeper voice, but it still wasn't his brother.

"Sam? Sam, you need to calm down! He's not lucid, the wires and tube might do more damage to something vital if we don't sedate him."

_You're putting me under? No, please don't. I don't want to go back to…to..._ Sam's thoughts became foggy and muddled as his body was filled with more sedatives. In a flash, he was back in the world of obscurity.

~+SPN+~

"Ugh."

Dean slowly came back to consciousness, but as he did, his taste returned as well. His mouth taste like dried bile and it made him want to puke again. But there was nothing to heave up; his stomach was empty. Smacking his lips together, Dean blinked his eyes open, lifted his head off the pillow and looked around. He suddenly remembered that he was in a motel and not with Sammy…why? Because his freakin' dad had gotten them both restricted; that fuckin' idiot. Anger began boiling up inside him all over again and he wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of him. Shaking his head, Dean sat up and stretched the kinks out of his bones. He stood up and looked at the boring room; he looked to the left…where another bed usually would be…where Sammy should be sleeping. But instead he was in a fricken hospital bed- a probably very uncomfortable one at that.

A sharp ring jolted him out of his thoughts. He moved his gaze to the small desk and saw his phone lighting up repeatedly. Dean's heart jumped up in his throat; he hoped to god it was the hospital and not his dad. He looked at the caller I.D; it didn't have a name, so it wasn't John, to his pleasure. It had to be the hospital, please god let it be the fricken hospital. He flipped it open and took a deep breath.

"Hello?"

~+SPN+~

John hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until something- some sort of ringing- woke him up. His heart leaped; maybe it was Dean, maybe he finally cooled down. Jumping off of the bed, he ran to the table and snatched his phone. His spirits plummeted when there was no name on the caller I.D. But there was something else…Sam. He took a shaky breath and pressed the 'answer' button.

"Yeah?"

**Both Dean and John's Call.**

"_Is this Mr. Bravo?"_

_**"Yeah, who is this?"**_

__**"Yes this is him. Who's calling?"**

_"This is Dr. Mackey; I'm calling in regarding Sam."_

_**"Is something wrong?" **_Dean asked; worry growing at the pit of his stomach.

**"Did something happen?" **said John, his concern and panic rising.

_"Yes, but it's nothing bad. As much as I am astonished, I'm very happy to say that Sam has woken up."_

_**"He-he did?"**_

__**"Really?"**

_"Yes, indeed, but we had to sedate him, because he was panicking and it might've damaged something. He should be regaining consciousness soon of you'd like to come and see him; I'm lifting the restriction._

_**"That's great, I'll be there soon."**_Dean smiled brightly for the first time in days. He hung up, put his cellphone in his pocket and got made his way to the front door. He could finally see Sammy. Since he was in a rush, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going; he suddenly slammed into someone slightly taller and buffer.

"Sorry, sir, I di-" he looked up and saw a familiar face. "Dad?"

**"Thank god. I'll be there in a few minutes." **John hung up as well and rushed out the door. Instantaneously, he ran into someone about the same height as him.

"Sorry, I-" but then he got a good look at the man. "Dean?"

"What are you doing here?" They said in unison.

"Umm, I just came here to crash for a bit. Wasn't feeling to well," Dean said, avoiding John's stare. "You?"

"Same. Did you get a call from-?"__

"The hospital? Yeah. I'm guessing you did too?"

John nodded simply, but wished his son would look at him. There was something he needed to say. There was a moment of uncomfortable silent until John couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean I-"

"Don't Dad, I know what you're going to say and…umm…I know. Me too."

"Dean, you have nothing to apologize for. If I didn't start yelling at you, then none of this would have ever happened."

Dean didn't argue; most of this _was_ his dad's fault, but some of it was also his. He would've never had to call his dad in the first place if he didn't make Sam eat that stupid cinnamon. But, his dad needed to wallow in some guilt right now. He'd finished his share of wallowing later when he was alone with his brother.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I really don't do this chick flick moment shit, and I'd really like to see Sammy so…"

John cracked a smile and bobbed his head.

"But…I forgive you."

John's grin grew bigger and placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder as the two walked to the church where the Impala was located.

"Let's go see your brother."

**Aww some Winchester love :). Finally Sam's up! But…will he be the same? Stay tuned to find out! Thanks for everyone who's stickin' with the story! I luv all my readers and reviewers. BTW don't forget to review ;) **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Sorry for the long wait, my week and weekend has been really busy so I couldn't write. But apparently I can always find time during class when I should be paying attention oops :) Anyways, on with the story!**

Dean and John briskly walked into the hospital and up to the nurse's desk. Almost immediately, Dean began demanding answers.

"Sam Bravo, I want to see him. What room is he in?" He didn't care if he sounded harsh to the hot brunette nurse, Sam was way more important.

"Hold on just a minute, sir," the nurse smiled and began tapping away at the keyboard while Dean panted anxiously. He had to, no; he _needed_ to see his brother…now. He needed to see if the kid was okay.

Suddenly the nurse frowned, instantly causing Dean to worry. Something was wrong. Nothing should be happening, Sam should be sleeping peacefully and waking up soon, nothing could be wrong. Not again.

"What? What's wrong?"

"It says that Mr. Bravo isn't allowed to have visitors; family or friends."

"WHAT!" Dean shouted, causing the small nurse to jump.

"Dean calm down-" John began.

"No, that son of a bitch lied to us! He said he lifted the fucking restriction!"

"And I did," a calm voice said.

Dean whipped around and came face to face with Dr. Mackey.

"Then why-"

"It just hasn't been put through yet, but I assure you, you are still able to see your brother Mr. Bravo." Dr. Mackey turned to the nurse and smiled. "You can take that restriction off now."

The nurse smiled back and nodded as she began typing away at the keyboard. Dean's harsh breathing began to subside, but he looked at Sam's doctor suspiciously. Something was a little…off about the guy. He glanced over to his dad and he saw that he knew something was up, too.

"O-okay, lead the way," Dean said uncertainly.

Dr. Mackey smiled…almost like a Cheshire cat, which kind of freaked Dean out. The Dr. turned, and when his back was facing the two Winchesters, his eyes flashed black before changing back to its vessel's normal blue-grey eyes.

~+SPN+~

"Right in here," Dr. Mackey said.

"In here? Sam's in this giant supply closet?" Dean said in confusion as he and his dad walked in front of the doctor. Immediately, John, somehow, sensed the demon and he spun around just in time to see the doctor lock the door.

"Dean," he whispered. "It's a trap. _Christo._"

Dr. Mackey whirled around, his eyes turning pure black.

"Oops, I guess you got me," the demon doctor shrugged. Then, without warning, he waved his hand and John was thrown back into a rack of towels. He fell down to the floor, unconscious, and the rack came crashing down on top of him.

"Hey!" Dean shouted angrily, but he too was thrown back, smacking into a wall. He grunted in pain as his head connected with the hard surface before sliding down onto the cold tiled floor. His vision swam, but he shook his head in order to focus.

The demon Mackey slowly walked over to Dean and wrapped two hands tightly around his neck.

"Where's Sam you son of a bitch?" Dean strained.

"You don't have to worry about him; I'll take care of him next."

"If you touch him, so help me god-"

"God can't help you in this situation, Dean. You're on your own. I'm gonna kill you," the 'doctor' squeezed Dean's neck tighter, "then your dad, and last but definitely not least, little Sammy."

"You're a fucking asshole!"

"Now that's not a very nice thing to say, Dean, you hurt my feelings." He tightened his grip, his sharp nails digging into Dean flesh and blood dripping from the small wounds.

Dean gasped, trying to scratch off the constricting fingers, but he failed. He failed himself, he failed his dad and he definitely failed his brother.

"W-who are you?" He rasped. He wanted to know what effing demon was doing this as he felt his eyes fluttering.

"That's for me to know and you to _never_ find out." With one last squeeze, Dean gasped but then exhaled as he slumped to the floor…dead.

~~~~SPN~~~~

Dean!

Sam eyes snapped open, meeting a dimly lit room. God, he hated visions. They always seemed so real…and they hurt his head like a bitch. In fact, his whole body was pulsing in agony. Where was he again? Oh, right the fricken hospital. But right now it didn't matter, because he had a vision. And a vision meant something bad was going to happen, soon; a demon was going to kill Dean if he didn't find him.

As he tore off his nasal cannula, he immediately smelled rotten eggs. Sulfur. The son of a bitch was in here! _Dammit._ He slowly sat up, wincing and groaning in pain as he moved his stiff body. He threw his covers off of him and he swung his legs over, placing his bare feet on the cold floor. Now, just hopefully, he could walk without collapsing into a pathetic heap. Ripping the I.V. out of his arm, ignoring the burning pain, and all the other wires from his body, he cautiously stood up, testing his strength. At first, he felt a bit dizzy and unsteady, but he stubbornly pushed it aside as he quickly regained composure. Sweat was already starting to coat his face and his breathing was intensifying and raspy. He didn't care though; Dean and his dad needed him.

As he started towards the door, his foot hit something soft; there was something poking out from underneath the bed. He looked down and saw his brother's duffle bag. A light went on in his drugged up mind as he rummaged through the contents of the bag, praying there was something useful. Food, flask, more food, gun, EMF- wait, gun? Sam pulled out Dean's extra .44 that had been hidden away and smiled. Mentally thanking his brother, he checked to see if it was loaded. But, before he could, a loud crash could be heard from down the hall. Now, a normal person would think someone just dropped a tray or something, but god damn it, he wasn't normal. No hunter was. He instantly knew someone was in trouble, and that person-or people- in particular were Dean and his dad.

Letting out a painful breath, he hobbled out of the room, the gun concealed underneath his t-shirt and he desperately looked for Dean. With every step, breathing grew harder to control or to even do, and his face was burning like the sun. He figured since the sound was fairly close, the room had to be nearby. He finally reached a questionable door that had no windows; it had to be it.

When he gradually opened the door and quietly stepped inside, his heart stopped. His dad was on the floor underneath a mess of towels and a huge shelf, unconscious and blood running down his face, while Dean-oh god- Dean's face was almost purple as a doctor that was standing over him had his hands wrapped tightly around Dean's neck. His eyes where flickering close and that did it for Sam. He didn't even have to think twice as he pulled the trigger, landing three rounds into the man's head. As he watched the doctor fall to the ground he lowered his gun, panting heavily, and surprised that he still hasn't passed out yet since he was feeling lightheaded. _Must be the adrenaline._ He watched as the black smoke spilled out of the doctor's open mouth and flew out of the room. Immediately after, dark crimson blood began flowing out of the doc's head wound. But that didn't matter…not yet anyways.

"Dean!" He yelled, his voice raw after it being dormant for a couple days. He ran over to his coughing and gasping brother, putting a hand on his shoulder. He made it, he saved Dean.

"Sam- *cough* Sammy? *cough* Wh- *cough, cough* what the h-hell are yo- *cough* you d-doing?"

"Saving your ass, what does it look like I'm doing?" Grinned Sam as he helped Dean off of the floor. His older brother stumbled a little, but Sam kept two shaky arms on his shoulders.

"Th-thanks for that," Dean rasped as he rubbed his sore neck and smiled at Sam. "God, it's good to see you awake, but you should get _your_ ass back in bed before you keel over."

Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled, though, it instantly disappeared. His head suddenly felt funny, his legs were feeling tingly and it felt like his stomach was doing somersaults.

Dean's smile vanished, too, when he saw the look on his brother's face. Come to think of it, Sam didn't look so hot; his face was all sweat and pasty looking and to make matters worse, the kid was swaying on his feet.

"Hey," he said as he tapped Sam's face, which, by the way, was unusually warm. "You alright, buddy?"

But before Sam could respond, Sam's knees buckled underneath his weight and he began to tip forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Dean instantly reacted, going down with his brother as the weight began to take a toll on his own body.

"Easy, Sammy, easy. I gotcha, okay? I'm gonna take care of you alright? You're gonna be okay. God, you crazy son of a bitch, what were you thinking?" He smiled weakly as he brought Sam's head and shoulders into his lap and held him tightly. "I gotcha." He ran his fingers through Sam's damp hair and listened to the kid's rough sounding breaths. It didn't sound healthy, but at least it was a sign that his brother was still alive. He glanced over at John, who was still unconscious, which kind of worried him, and then over to the body of Dr. Mackey. _Damn, how were they gonna explain this?_ He returned his gaze back to his unconscious brother. He knew he should start calling for help, but he wanted some time alone with Sam before the kid was torn away from his protective hold. He chuckled as he shook his head. The things Sam did; the things all three Winchesters did for each other. They were just fucking crazy sometimes. But the kid saved his life, while feeling like shit, so he had to give Sam props. Placing his chin on Sam's head, he sighed. Their life was _so_ screwed up.

**TBC**

** Didn't expect that to happen did ya. I actually didn't know if I should do this, but I wanted to put some Supernatural stuff in the story. I hope you like it, if you don't I'm sorry :( The last chapter will, hopefully, be up soon though :) Thanks and don't forget to review! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Sorry this took so long; I had major writers block and I couldn't figure out what to right for the middle part of this chapter. Also track was getting in the way with KVACs and now States. But anyways the story is back and I would never think of quitting a story btw. Hope you like this and thanks for all the reviews and comments btw! :) Enjoy!**

Dean sighed heavily. He had to take care of this crap before someone saw it. Sam was, now, shivering violently in his arms and he knew his brother really needed medical attention…fast.

"God, Sam what have I done?" He shook his head, brushing his brother's hair out of his eyes.

All of a sudden, the supply closet door swung open, revealing a small nurse with a bunch of new towels in her arms. When she looked up and saw the scene in front of her, she screamed, dropping the linen on the ground.

"Oh my god!"

Dean ignored her shouts and yelled back at her. "Go get help...NOW!"

Without hesitation, the nurse nodded shakily and stumbled out of the room. Dean wiped a hand over his face. _So much for keepin' this a secret._ He shifted Sam's body higher up onto his lap when he heard the door open again. _Here we go._ The next few minutes were a total blur for Dean. He only recalled having his brother pried from his vice-like grip and rushed back to the E.R. and his dad put on another gurney, wheeled out of sight. How he got back in the waiting room with a police officer standing in front of him, he did not know.

"Sir? Sir!"

Dean looked up lazily. "Huh?"

"I asked if you remember what happened."

Good thing Dean was a pro at lying. He definitely couldn't come out and say, _'A demon was possessing my brother's doctor so we had no choice but to kill the sucker,'_ it'd probably land him in jail; or worse the loony-bin.

"My brother's doctor, he was trying to kill him. He, ah, was giving him drugs that were making him sick, and he knew that." _Lie number one._

"Did the doctor actually _tell_ you this?" Asked the officer suspiciously.

"Yeah, he did." _Lie two. _"Then he tried to kill me and my dad in the supply closet, but my brother managed to get up and saved up both; he shot the guy in the head." _The whole story wasn't a complete lie._

The officer nodded with a frown, but decided to leave the guy alone. He looked exhausted and he knew exactly what it was like to have a loved one in the hospital.

"Alright, I guess that's all for now. I hope your brother's okay."

Dean looked up in surprise. Who knew police officers could be so sympathetic. "Thanks."

Immediately after, he snapped his gaze back to the E.R doors, desperately waiting for someone to come out and give him some news- some _good_ news- on Sam and his father. After what seemed like days, the double doors swung open, revealing a doctor in sea-green scrubs.

"Family of Sam and John Bravo?"

Instantly, Dean was in front on the man, eager for immediate answers.

"How's my brother? What about my dad? Are they okay?"

"My name is Dr. Hudson, taking over for Dr. Mackey. Your dad's just fine. He sustained a minor concussion, but he'll be able to go home within the next few hours. We just have to do a couple of head scans to make sure no surprise swelling occurs."

Dean nodded, but the lump in his throat did not go away. The doctor failed to mention his brother. Why hasn't he mentioned Sam?

"W-what about my brother?"

The doctor's face turned dark. That was definitely not a good sign.

"Your brother's condition is a bit more crucial, Dean. The energy he used to get to you and your father wiped him out completely. His blood pressure and heart rate were dangerously elevated and add that to battling a major infection…it caused Sam to develop a serious lung infection."

Nononono! Sam was supposed to be getting better not worse. What the hell!

"We have him on mixture of fever reducers, antibiotics and normal cough meds."

"I-Is he going-" Dean cleared his throat. "He's gonna be okay right?"

The doctor sighed. "To tell you the truth, Dean, he's _very _sick right now and his condition is touch and go. At this point, we are allowing no visitors, strictly only for Sam's health. His immune system is extremely weak and we can't have him catching any outside viruses. But, if you'd like to see your father, he's in room 227."

Dean swallowed tensely and nodded as watched the doctor leave. When the coast was clear, his knees gave out and he suck into a nearby chair. Tears began dripping out of his, already puffy, eyes; he couldn't hold them in any longer. All this because of a fricken game? Seriously. How could this world get any more fucked up? He wiped a weary hand down his damp face; he felt cold, empty. Sam was sick because of him. He just made Sam's life worse than it already was.

~~~SPN~~~

Dean slowly walked to his dad's room, hands shoved forcefully in his pockets. God, this has been the worse week of his life. When he reached the doorway, he found his dad propped up on a bunch of pillows and fully engrossed in the hunting magazine he was reading. The _normal hunting_ magazine.

Dean cleared his throat and stepped in quietly. "Dad?"

John looked up and as soon as he saw his son, he placed the magazine face down on his lap.

"Dean," he said gruffly, "Are you okay? Where's the demon? Did you kill it?"

Dean inwardly huffed. Trust his dad to only care about the fricken demons and not Sammy. Well, he did ask if _he_ was okay, so he guessed that was a plus.

"No, actually, Sam killed it; he fucking risked his own life to save us."

John's faced paled, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean he risked his life? What happened while I was out?"

"Well, I don't know how Sam knew we were in trouble, but I remember the demon was strangling me, and in the next moment, the bastard was dead and Sam was holding a gun. After that, he passed out and…dammit," Dean ran a hand through his hair shakily as he sat down next to his dad's bed.

"What is it?" Urged John worriedly.

"He's getting sicker dad. Doc said he developed a fricken lung infection. God!"

John cursed under his breath and wiped a hand across his salt and pepper beard.

"What are we gonna do dad?"

"Well, _I'm_ gonna get out of this garb, we're gonna grab Sam and then we are gonna get the hell outta this place."

Dean frowned as he stood up in rage. "What! Sam is sick, possibly dying now, 'cause he saved both our asses and once again, all you can think about is leaving; leaving the one place that can keep him alive? Is running your answer to everything?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Dean. It's for everyone's good. This place asks too many questions."

"So what! So what if they do; we can just lie like we always do, what's so different about now?"

"When the hell did you start turning into your brother? First it was me and him at each other's throat, now you?"

"Well, maybe I came to my senses and realized that all you care about is the fucking demon and all the other demons in this fucked up world! Maybe I should just drag Sam's unconscious body down here so you can yell at him some more for no god damn reason! After all, this _is_ his fault, right? Everything is Sam's goddamn fault, right?" Dean finished sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air. "You know what? I can't deal with this shit right now. I need some space." Dean stalked out of the room before John could say another word. He couldn't believe that guy! Now he knew why Sam always got in fights with him, why Sam had abruptly left them without warning and he didn't blame the kid. Their father was so freakin' unbelievable!

~~~SPN~~~

He opened his grit-filled eyes slowly, pain coursing through his entire body; more specifically his chest. He coughed harshly, sending flames through his throat and into his lungs. God, he felt worse than before! Sweat was practically pouring into buckets from his fever and even though he felt as hot as hell, his whole body was shivering violently. It hurt so much to move his body, he felt like he'd just went a round with Mike Tyson. But first things first: where the hell was he? Trying hard not to move as much, he searched the quiet, dimly lit room and a light bulb clicked. _Hospital._ Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to recall the events that brought him here. _Cinnamon Challenge. Dean. Couldn't breathe. Wait, rewind. Dean._

An image flashed through his mind; a very unpleasant image at the most. He saw his brother on the floor; his bright green eyes- which were now dull- were open and unseeing. He was dead. Then it all came back to him. The game, the feeling of drowning, dad and Dean fighting, and…no not the vision. It had to be fake right? Maybe the fever was just playing with his head, right? No, that would never happen. Dean needed his help and fast…or was he too late? He breathed heavily as he threw the constricting covers off his legs, swinging them over the bed. He immediately felt weak and dizzy, but that didn't matter. Dean mattered more. He took a shaky breath and placed his feet on the ground. Slowly he stood up, waiting for the wave of nausea and lightheadedness to pass. After a couple moments, he felt a bit better and he ripped the I.V. needle from his arm. He vaguely remembered doing something similar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He brushed it away for now and headed for the door. As soon as he reached the entrance, though, he was already out of breath. He couldn't fail his brother; Dean's life depended on him. Just hopefully he could reach the older Winchester without ending his own.

~~~SPN~~~

Dean walked through the bustling hallways, trying to cool down his steaming anger. Part of him was also hoping he'd find his brother's room. He didn't give a damn what that doctor said, he needed to actually put _eyes_ on Sam to know for sure that he was at least still breathing. But…he didn't get his hopes up; the place was huge and he had no idea where to start looking. He huffed in annoyance as he turned another corner. That's when he saw him…Sam. _What the hell? Maybe he was hallucinating or something, but wasn't Sammy supposed to be in bed?_ Sam was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily. Worst of all, his face looked as pale as a sheet and sweat was soaking through his t-shirt.

"Sam!" He looked around to see if there was anyone there, but there was no one. He quickly sprinted to his brother and slid to his knees. He cupped Sam's too warm face in his hands and lightly tapped it with his fingers.

"Sammy, what the hell ya doin' kid?"

Sam responded with a weak groan before breaking out into a coughing fit.

"Easy, kiddo, easy. Let's get you back to bed, alright? That is, if we can find your room." He hoisted his 6'4 brother into his grip, wrapping one limp arm around his shoulder and weaving his own arm around Sam's waist. Instantly, the kid's knees almost gave out and Dean nearly fell back to the floor with him. But Dean quickly held his ground and practically dragged his brother back down the hall, looking in every single room to see if it was empty.

It was the last room; the last _fricken_ room in the wing. What idiot would put Sammy in the middle of nowhere? Well, maybe not the middle of nowhere, the nurse's station was not too far down the hall. He turned into the semi-dark room and slowly made his way to the bed. Carefully placing the gentle giant on the mattress, he maneuvered Sam's body until he was comfortably on the bed and underneath comforting blankets. Dean watched as Sam seemed to relax into the pillows, and all the weight seemed to lift off his chest. He checked to make sure no one would be around for a while, and then went back to his brother's side, dragging a chair over to Sam's head.

"You are one crazy son of a bitch, you know that right?" He didn't expect an answer. Either Sam had exhausted himself and fallen back asleep or he just passed out completely. "First saving dad and me, now trying to escape? Geez, Sammy you're gonna burn yourself out."

Dean smiled sadly while brushing back the sweaty bangs on his brother's damp forehead and then placed his palm on his cheek. "Don't do this to me, kiddo. Please don't do this to me….Geez, what am I gonna do with you, man?" He sat back in his seat and wiped his face; he knew he wasn't supposed to be in here, but he couldn't just leave his brother on the grimy floor no matter how sterilized it was. He shook his head and closed his eyes. Suddenly a small moan floated out from the bed. His eyes snapped open and he immediately stood up, leaning over his little brother's form.

"Sammy?" He said, gripping Sam's sweaty hand tightly. "Come on, man, you gotta open those big brown eyes for me, okay?"

At first, Dean didn't think his brother heard him, but then, very slowly, Sam's eyelids blinked open and revealed glassy looking brown eyes.

"Sam?" Dean said in a wavering voice.

"Hmmm, D'n?" Sam answered in a raspy voice.

"Oh, thank god," Dean breathed still never letting go of Sam's hand. With his right hand, he cupped his brother's face gently, stroking it softly with his thumb.

"Wha' happ'n'd to no chick-flick m'm'nt's, De?"

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes and ruffling his brother's floppy hair before sitting back down in the chair. Sammy was okay now, he was alive. Maybe, just maybe things would finally go back to normal…and they could figure out what that friggin' demon wanted. Probably wanted them dead like all demons did, but the cards could change; there might be something else. Maybe it was just for the heck of it, but hey, when did that ever happen?

**Apparently this is NOT gonna be the last chapter, and it may be the next one, but who knows. Hope you liked this chapter, if you didn't then well I can't really blame ya, I kinda don't like it either. Oh well, the next chapter will be better: lots of brotherly love and protection and why that demon wanted to kill the Winchesters (well there's always a reason, but what's the reason? Hmmmm…) :) Don't forget to review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Hi again, here's the next chapter. I liked writing this waaayy more than the last one. Hope you'll like it! :) **

Sam had fallen back to sleep, but Dean didn't blame him. He was sick and exhausted and it had really taken a toll on the kid's body. The big question, though, was: how did Sam know they were in trouble earlier? Maybe it was another one of those damn visions. Fuck, the kid was already hurting; he didn't need a friggin' migraine added to his miseries.

Dean watched Sam breath in and out; something he hadn't seen him do for a while…well on his own, that is. He still hadn't released his brother's hand, and now his own hand was hot and sweaty, but he didn't give crap about it; he wasn't letting go of Sam, not now, not ever. He almost lost him so many times in their life, he wasn't gonna let it happen again. Sam had been kidnapped by a bunch of psycho hillbillies and almost executed, strangled _way_ too many times, beaten up, nightmare plagued and god only knows what else. Not to mention the thousands of times Sam had gotten sick. The kid was prone to danger.

"You know," he began talking softly. He knew Sammy found the sound of his voice comforting, conscious or not. "When you were just a baby, you'd get sick so many times and mom and dad would have to stay up all night to watch you. Sometimes if Dad was at work, mom would let me stay up and watch you, too. God, you were a handful," Dean chuckled, as remembered those days. "Even after she died…nothing would stop you from getting the flu or just the common cold. Dad was always on hunts, so I was stuck with the nursing job. But…I liked it, it made me feel needed. It was my job to take care of you- still is, and, ha, dad wouldn't even know what to do if he tried so…" Dean sniffed, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. "God, I hate having to see you go through this shit, because of my mistake. I'm supposed to be the responsible big brother, but all I did was hurt you. I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry."

"N-not your f'lt, De," a soft voice filtered throughout the room.

Dean jumped, his eyes snapping open.

"Sammy? You awake?" Dean said eagerly, squeezing his brother's hand.

Sam's legs shifted underneath the blankets as he took a deep breath. One at a time, his eyes opened and looked at his surroundings before landing on Dean.

"I-It's…" Sam coughed, but only twice. That was a good thing, right? "It's n-not your fault, Dean."

"It is, Sammy. I practically _forced_ the spoon into your mouth."

"And I could've said no," Sam said closing his eyes. He was beat.

"You tried and-"

"I could have walked away, I could have left the motel for a while until you realized I wasn't gonna do it. I could have done a hundred different things to avoid doing the dare, but instead I gave in. Yeah, you might," Sam took a deep breath, already breathless from his lecture. "You might have coerced me, but you aren't entirely to blame alright?"

"If I had just known you were allergic to-"

"Alright?" Sam cut off, opening his eyes and looking straight into Dean's.

"Fine…Trust you to get me into chick flick moments," muttered Dean. "Bitch."

Sam closed his eyes as he grinned. "Jerk."

~~~SPN~~~

"So…" begun Sam. His eyes were still closed, but he was awake.

"Yeah, man?"

"What do ya think that demon wanted?"

"Ain't it obvious? Just like the rest of them, they want us dead."

"Well, there has to be a reason, right? It's usually, because 'you sent me back to hell' or 'you killed my brother, mother, father, daughter' sort'a thing."

"Yeah, that's true."

"Anyways," Sam said before letting out a bout of coughing. He winced as he rubbed his chest; being sick sucked. "T-The demon that had been possessing Dr. Mackey isn't gone. It only left the meat suit. It could still be in the hospital."

"Great, just our luck," Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Then I guess we gotta keep a sharp eye on everyone."

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow. "Even the hot nurses? You're not gonna be blinded by what you call "love?"

"Shut up. I can turn it on and off when I want to, unlike your telekinesis. I still can't believe we lost $75 bucks at the craps table."

"Dean that was weeks ago and it was $75 dollars, so stop complaining."

Dean rolled his eyes, but smiled. It began to disappear, though, when he studied his brother. He still looked a bit pale, but his temperature was decreasing to a normal level and his coughing wasn't as bad as before.

"What?" Sam said, breaking Dean out of his thoughts.

He frowned; his brother's eyes were still closed. "How did you-"

"You're my brother, Dean. I can sense your eyes on me…and you were quiet for too long, which you never are."

"Whatever. I'm gonna…" Dean trailed off as he remembered his promise to himself. He wouldn't leave Sammy's side, ever."

"What, Dean?" Sam said, opening his eyes and looking at his older brother in concern.

"I… ha, this is embarrassing. I have to go take a leak, but…"

A light bulb went on in Sam's drug filled head. He pursed his lips; Dean never actually _showed_ his protectiveness this much, more or less his feelings…and he wasn't gonna tease him about it.

"Go, Dean. I don't need to be smelling piss while I'm trying to sleep or eat," Sam joked lightly.

Dean didn't even crack a smile; he was serious about this. He so worried that in the little time he would spend in the bathroom, something bad would happen to his baby brother. They always had bad luck, why would it turn around now?

"I'll be fine Dean, okay? Don't worry. Anyways, you look like crap, go wash up. But if you are that uneasy about it, then…I'll knock down this glass, assuming I won't be able to yell."

Dean sighed. It was a clever idea, but…

"Dean. I'm okay."

"Alright. Back in a sec."

"'Kay." Sam slumped into the pillows and closed his eyes. Dean worried too much.

Suddenly, he felt someone touch his shoulder and he flinched violently, opening his eyes.

"Whoa, dude, it's just me," his brother said softly.

"Oh, sorry…that was quick."

"What can I say? I'm a ninja," Dean grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes as the two Winchesters sat in silence for a few moments.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Remember when all this started? Before I was about to do the dare?"

Dean frowned. Where was the kid going with this? "Yeah? What are you saying, Sam?"

"And you said that you'd do the challenge after me? Well, it's your turn."

"What?"

"You heard me. It's your turn for the Cinnamon Challenge, Dean," Sam smiled.

~~~SPN~~~

Sam had only been joking about making Dean do the dare, because he knew how much crap his big brother went through because of the first incident. Now, twice in an hour, Sam had fallen asleep, on his left side this time and facing his brother and Dean understood perfectly. Maybe now he could get some much needed rest. Dean yawned loudly as he weaved his fingers through Sam's curled ones and squeezed his brother's hand gently before falling into a deep slumber.

~~~SPN~~~

Dr. Hudson walked through the quiet hallways of the hospital, smiling at nurses and the other staff members of the nightshift. He was beat and the past few hours had been energy draining. It seemed tonight was the night everyone picked to get injured or extremely sick.

He turned another corner, heading down to Sam Bravo's, his current patient, room. He was handed this job when Joe, commonly known as Dr. Mackey, was killed. Well, it was the guys own fault, he was trying to kill a patient and that was against the law. The chilling part of it was that he'd been friends with him since he got here…who knew he had a totally different life as a criminal. _I wonder how many other people he's killed._ Dr. Hudson shuddered, not wanting to think about it. Anyways, speaking of Sam, it had been pretty quiet in his room. No flat lines, no breathing problems, nothing. The kid must be sleeping peacefully.

Looking down at his clipboard, he stepped into the room. When he looked up, though, he gasped. The older kid- Dean was it? - was sitting next to his patient, hand interlocked with him and snoring softly. He pursed his lips and sighed in annoyance. Why was it that the families never listened to word he said? He shook his head as he proceeded with the quick checkup. He'd wake up Dean in a second. Sam's heart was beating normally, and his blood pressure was good along with his oxygen levels. His temperature was a bit high, but not as life threatening; his breathing, yet still raspy, was slow and steady. Once he was finished scribbling down the information needed, he moved to go wake up the older brother. But once he got a good look at the man, he stopped. Dean had stubble on his very pale face. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was disheveled like he ran his hand through it many times. _It looks like the guy hasn't left once. _His eyes were red and puffy, almost like he'd been crying, and they had dark grey circles underneath them. The poor kid must've not slept in days.

Now he felt bad, and he'd feel extremely guilty if he forced the shattered man out. Never, in his 12 years of being a doctor, did he see so much protectiveness and dedication towards a family member. Sighing sadly he looked at Sam; the kid looked happy and relaxed, probably 'cause his big brother was by his side. He didn't want to be the cause of his patient's distress if he removed his brother from the room. He guessed it would be okay to let him stay; Sam was doing fine anyways. Without another sound, he quickly left the room.

~~~SPN~~~

He sluggishly stirred, detecting that something wasn't right. Dean's big brother senses were tingling wildly and it suddenly came to him. He couldn't feel Sam's hand; the warmth was gone. This was a very bad thing. He jerked awake and looked to where his brother's bed _should_ be. But to his shock, the bed wasn't there. He whipped his head around and just in time, he saw a male nurse rolling a still sleeping Sam out of the room.

"Hey!" he said a little too loudly.

The nurse gasped and looked up at Dean.

"What are you doing with him?"

"He's getting a chest x-ray, sir. Just a routine check," he said.

Dean studied the nurse's face and then remembered his own words to Sam. _"We gotta keep a sharp eye on everyone."_

"Christo," he muttered.

Almost immediately, the nurse growled and swiftly pinned Dean to the wall with an invisible force. "I'll get to you later," he hissed.

Dean tried to move, but the power of the demon was too strong; he could barely even lift a friggin' finger. Suddenly, both of them heard a small noise. Sam was waking up.

_Dammit, no. _"Sammy," he whispered.

"Hmmm, Dean?" Sam moaned groggily as he opened his eyes. When he saw his brother against the wall and the black eyed nurse, he barely had time to gasp before a prick of a needle entered his neck, inserting a sedative into his system. Instantly, he started to grow weak and tired; he could only hear Dean's shouting voice below crashing waves. In another second, he fell back into the world of unconsciousness.

~~~SPN~~~

"Sam? Sammy, stay awake buddy!" Dean shouted as his brother's eyelids started to close. In seconds, the kid was out.

The demon grinned evilly as he made a move to stoke Sam's hair.

"Don't you _dare_ touch him you son of a bitch!" growled Dean threateningly.

The 'nurse' looked up and sneered. "And what are you gonna do about it?" He resumed going for Sam's head and carded his fingers through Sam's curls. It made Dean sick to see the bastard touch his little brother like that. He began breathing heavily, puffing air through his nose like a raging bull…and that's exactly what he was right now. _No one_ was allowed to touch his Sammy like that. He snarled, struggling immensely to tear himself from the wall. But it was no use. He was helpless.

"Say good-bye to little Sammy," the demon chuckled, standing up straight and beginning to roll Sam's bed away.

"Come back here you bastard! I swear to god if you hurt him, you will fucking regret stepping foot on this earth! _Oh, god. _Sammy! Hey! HEY!"

**TBC**

***Laughs evilly* what's gonna happen to our Sammy? I really hope I'm not going off track with this story's plot, but if I am just let me know. The next chapter will be up in the next few days or so, maybe Saturday at the latest. Review like always :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**OMG thanks for all the reviews and favoriting and alerting! It made my horrible day so much better :) Anyways, it good that I haven't gone off track because I wrote the whole chapter nine in class today and it took forever! Oh well, on with the story :)**

He was going to finish off the Winchester's once and for all. Master was going to be so pleased with. He looked down at the unconscious and youngest Winchester in disgust; he couldn't believe he had to handle such a pathetic human. But…it was all part of the plan Master came up with. He had to kill John and Dean Winchester and then bring Sam to Master. The first attempt was a complete fail when, unexpectedly, Sam shot his meat suit. Damn him, the little bastard! But this time he just had to kidnap the kid and then, sure enough, Dean and John would come looking for him. It was the perfect trap. When the two men entered his setup, he would capture them and gut them like the pigs they were. He scowled just thinking about them. Then, he would take Sam to Master who would, then, give _him_ a reward for such a clever and devious plan. Yes, it _was_ a clever and devious plan, indeed. He rolled the bed into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement floor. This was going to be so much fun.

~~~SPN~~~

Dean grunted angrily, franticly trying to pry himself off the wall. Even if the demon was gone, its power was still in effect…just not as strong. If only he could concentrate hard enough. He had to find dad so they could get Sammy before it was too late. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on moving his arm with all his strength. After a few moments, he felt his arm separate from the wall, then his head, and then his leg. Not long after, Dean collapsed to the ground in a heap. Not wanting to waste precious time, he scrambled to his feet and bolted out of the room. He had to find dad…and fast.

~~~SPN~~~

"Ugh."

"Well, well, well, it's about time you wake up; I was getting bored."

Sam frowned, blinking his eyes open. What the hell happened and why did his neck hurt so much? Was that Dean talking?

"Come on, kid, wakey wakey. Get your head out of the clouds!"

No it didn't sound like his brother. When his vision focused, he looked around and saw that he was in some sort of dungeon. Where was he? He tried to move his limbs, but found that both his wrist and ankles were bound together with a thick, scratchy rope.

"Where am I?" Sam groaned.

"The basement in the hospital. Couldn't go far for reasons I don't bother to share with you," said a voice so close to his ear, he could feel the warm breath. Sam flinched away and looked behind him. It was just a nurse. What the hell? Suddenly, the green eyes flashed black and realization came to the young Winchester.

"That answer your question, Sammy?" The demon questioned, seeming to know what Sam was thinking.

"Don't call me that," Sam said in a hoarse voice. "What do you want?"

"I want… zilch."

"What?"

"That's right…nil, nothing, nada. These are just my orders."

"Orders from who?"

"No more questions, Sammy. You ask way too much." With that the nurse kicked Sam in the abdomen causing the boy to grunt and gasp for air. Almost instantly, he began coughing erratically, unable to get oxygen into his lungs. When it finally ceased, his breathing was severely labored and painful.

"You…s-son of…a…bitch!" He growled.

"Hey!" The demon shouted as he grabbed Sam by the hair and yanked his head back violently. "That's my mother you're talking about." Without care, he threw Sam back to the ground and punched him in the nose. Blood immediately began flowing out onto Sam's pale face. Sam coughed, but barely had time to do anything else as the demon grabbed the rope around his wrist and dragged him over to a lone hook suspended above the ground. Sam knew exactly what was about to happen. With ease, the demon pulled Sam up by his shirt collar and hung the ropes on the hook. When Sam was left hanging, only the tips of his toes were able to touch the cold, concrete floor. He grunted in agony, scrunching his face up as the weight of his own body began to weigh down on his arms. His wrists immediately started burning from the ropes chafing his skin.

"Now…we wait," grinned the demon.

"For who?" Sam breathed heavily.

"I didn't tell you? Oh, well you see," the 'nurse' began, calmly circling around Sam. "This is a trap for dear daddy and brother. When they come running for the damsel in distress- that's you," he said stroking Sam's neck with a single finger. Sam gasped, feeling sick. He tried moving away, but it was impossible. "I will ambush the two, beat them 'till they can't even taste their own blood, and you, my dear friend, will have to watch. When I get bored, I'll slit their throats and you _will_ watch the light fade from their eyes."

Sam breathed harshly, a tear of anger and fear trickling down his face.

"Aww, don't worry, it shouldn't take long. And look on the bright side, you won't have to die. But…you sure will be in a hellova lot of pain."

"W-why?"

"Because I'm gonna use you as a punching bag, silly," he said flicking Sam's nose playfully.

Sam scrunched his nose in disgust and spit on the nurse's face. The demon frowned in anger as he lashed out, punching Sam in the jaw. The demon's eyes flashed black again as he gave Sam a sinister grin.

_"Surge sentire inferno."_

~~~SPN~~~

Dean rushed down the hall, sliding around corners and dodging hospital staff. He skid to a stop at his father's door, panting deeply.

"Dad!"

John looked up and immediately knew something was seriously wrong.

"Son, what's wrong? Is it Sammy?"

"The…the demon d-didn't leave. It t-took him…it took Sam. I d-don't…I don't know where they are!" Dean said in between breaths.

John's face quickly showed fear and anger. He threw the sheets of him and got out of bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness, and put on his shoes. Luckily he was already in his sweat, because then it'd be very awkward to fight a demon in a revealing gown.

"I think I may know where they are, but first we need to stock up." The two older men ran out of the hospital and to Dean's, thankfully closely parked, car. They grabbed the usual things that would aid them in this situation: a couple knives, lots of holy water, chalk and John's book. Hiding the equipment in their jackets, the two wasted no extra time as they rushed back into the elevator. John punched the button for the ground floor before sharing a worried glance with his son. They were gonna get Sammy back; they weren't gonna lose him again.

~~~SPN~~~

"Uh! Ah! P-please- uh! - stop. I-I can't- ah! - b-breathe!"

"That's your problem not mine."

The demon resumed hitting Sam in the chest and stomach. Tears streamed down Sam pale and slightly bloodied face; it hurt so much, more so his lungs. They felt like they were on fire…he could not breathe! This guy was gonna kill him. Blood from his nose ran into his mouth causing him to taste the metallic tang of his own blood; and every time he was hit, the force made him swing on the hook and causing more strain on his abused arms and wrists.

"Please s-stop," Sam begged in a sobbing whisper as he started to give in to unconsciousness.

"Oh, come on now, it's not that bad. Don't fall asleep for the big show, Sammy," the demon said, caressing Sam's cheek. Something Dean would always do to comfort him. But this _was not_ comforting; it was downright sickening.

"Get your fucking perverted hands off him, you bastard!" A voice yelled.

Sam sluggishly opened his eyes and through his blurry vision, he saw two people, which looked an awful lot like Dean and his father, run into the dungeon like room.

~+SPN+~

John bolted towards the demon angrily. NO ONE was allowed to touch his son like that. NO ONE! He came very close to the nurse, but was carelessly tossed aside with one nod of the demon's head. He grunted in pain, but he brushed it off. Sammy needed him. He got up and splashed holy water onto the demon's chest.

"AGH! You bastard!" It hissed and gurgled as it fell to its knees. "You're gonna wish you never did that."

Little did the demon know that in the time he was cursing at John, Dean was hastily drawing a devil's trap. When he finished, he nodded at John, who returned the gesture and instantly kicked the nurse in the chest, propelling him backwards into the circle. The demon made a move to launch at John, but found that he couldn't. Looking down, he growled.

"Oh, you didn't."

John smirked and shrugged. "It's what you get for touching my son."

"Come on we were just having a little fun," he turned to Sam and grinned. "Weren't we Sammy?"

"Shut up!" John said, splashing more holy water onto the demon and watched it wail in agony.

John took out his book and began reading the Latin needed for the exorcism. He was gonna get this finished now.

Dean cringed as the demon called Sam 'Sammy.' It was _his_ name for Sam, not some son of a bitch that felt up his brother. When he felt his dad was handling this, he ran to his brother, dropping everything, but a knife, on the floor.

"Sam? Sammy? Come on dude, you gotta wake up," he whispered patting Sam's face. He cursed when he saw the blood and bruises on Sam's face. _That dick!_

His brother lazily opened his eyes and stared at his older brother.

"D-Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm right here, buddy. Don't worry, I'm gonna get you down from there, just hold on."

Sam nodded, but his eyes began to droop close.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, immediately getting Sam's attention. "I'm gonna get you down, but you gotta help me out here; you have to stay awake, alright? You gotta stay with me, Sammy."

"O-okay. S-s'ry."

"It's alright, kiddo."

"It h-hurts, Dean."

"I know and I'm getting you down. You're gonna get down, get back into the nice comfortable bed and the docs will pump you full with a cocktail of drugs."

A ghost of a smile crept on Sam's face, bringing a smile to Dean's face as well. Dean quickly and carefully began cutting the rope from the hook, because his Sasquatch of a brother was too heavy to lift up. When it finally separated, Sam collapsed onto Dean's shoulder, causing his brother to carry him in a fireman's hold.

"Ugh, you gotta lay off the salad, Sammy."

"Shut…up…jerk."

"Bitch," Dean chuckled, glad that Sam still had his sense of humor in this dour situation. He cradled his brother's head as he gently lowered him down against the wall with caution. He didn't want to cause Sam any more pain then he was already in. With careful attentiveness, he cut the ropes off Sam's raw wrist and ankles.

He, then, cupped Sam's face in his hand and studied him carefully. He grimaced in sympathy, rubbing Sam's cheek with his thumb. Sam flinched and tensed up a little, probably thinking it was the demon and not Dean. He really hoped the bastard didn't traumatize his little brother.

"I gotcha kiddo. You're gonna be alright, champ."

Sam nodded slowly, recognizing his brother's voice. "T-tired, De."

"Just stay awake for a while longer so I can get you back into the bed, alright?"

"Mmhm."

With much grunting and swearing, from Dean mostly, he had Sam back in the hospital and tucked in protectively. The kid was asleep before his head even hit the pillow. Dean smiled, but it faded. He hoped the doctor wouldn't see these injuries or they'd be screwed. How were they gonna explain this? He sighed and smoothed out Sam's bangs before turning to his father.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time! Who gave you these orders?"

"Fine! Won't do him much harm anyways. My orders are from the Demon…THE Demon. The one you've been looking for, yes? The YED wants you and Dean dead, but Sammy for his own."

"Why?"

The demon cackled and before John could finish the exorcism, black smoke shot out of the nurse's mouth with a booming scream. John stepped back and watched the smoke spill onto the concrete and disappear.

The older Winchesters breathed heavily, standing in absolute silence for a moment.

"Dad…"

"I know, Dean. We're gonna get the evil son of a bitch…" then he looked at Dean's face wearily. "But, right now Sammy's more important."

Dean nodded and heaved a sigh. _It's about time you care more about your son._ The two looked at the slumbering Sam, who was looking worse for wear, but at least he was safe. It was over…for now.

**TBC**

**YAYY the demon is gone, but not the YED, ooh that guy makes me so mad! Sooooo, a couple of notes:**

"_**Surge sentire inferno."-**_** Mean's get ready to feel hell. If I'm wrong, blame Google translate.**

**On another note:**

"**This was going to be so much fun." Reminded me a lot of the part where Cas (Leviathan Cas) said "This is gonna be so much fun," when the Leviathans where starting to come out. Do you remember that? At that part I realized how much Misha Collins was so hot!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**LAST CHAPTER :((( Thanks for everyone who read, reviewed, alerted, etc., etc. :)**

Dean watched his baby brother's chest bob up and down slowly. That was the only fricken thing that stopped him from screaming and pulling his hair out. Because the only thing he could _really_ think about was the way the son of a bitch touched his brother, the way he saw Sam recoil when the guy caressed his face…like _he _did when Sammy always felt scared or sick. Now…he didn't know if it would be so comforting for his brother anymore. God! It made him so sick to think about it. He shook his head in disbelief as he slowly walked to the bathroom, grabbing a cloth and soaking it with cold water. Going back into the room, he gently wiped his brother's blood and sweat covered face until it was clean. When he was satisfied, he carelessly tossed the towel on the ground. He took out some bandages, gauze, and disinfectant that he stole and began working on his brother's wrist. Carefully, like he's done so many times for his brother, he wrapped the wound and secured it; then he did the same for the other wrist.

He wiped his face wearily and sniffed as he sat down in the chair next to Sam. He began reach out to brush the long curly bangs out of Sam's face, but he stopped himself, not sure if it was a good idea. Back in the basement, Sam had tensed at his touch. _His!_ If Dean wasn't able to comfort his brother the way he usually did, then he'd didn't know what to do. Comforting his brother calmed him, but… now? It just brought him right back to the basement and it probably would bring Sam back, too. He sighed heavily in frustration. He was about to let the dam break…again. He was all alone, besides Sam, and since his dad was back in the basement cleaning up the mess, he figured it'd be okay to let his mask of strength falter. He did know if he could take it anymore, the only thing keeping him from going off the edge was his brother. Sam needed him right now. He bowed his head, grabbing his brother's hand and began sobbing.

"I'm sorry Sam, I'm sorry I got you in to this mess. I'm sorry the demon kidnapped and hurt you. I'm sorry that he touched you in _that way_. I'm supposed to be good at this responsible older sibling stuff, I'm supposed to be the strong big brother, but now…I just don't know what the hell anymore." Finally, exhaustion dominated his worn out body and he cried himself to sleep.

~+SPN+~

Through his hazy mind, he heard- well, he _thought_ he heard- someone moaning. Someone moaning his name in fear and desperation. _Sammy?_

"D-Deeean."

Dean frowned as his head shot up and immediately looked at his brother's slightly bruised face. It was scrunched up in distress: a nightmare. He looked around and saw that he was still alone. _How long did it take to clean up a simple chalk drawing and figure out how to get the unconscious nurse someplace unquestionable?_ Looking down at his watch he raised his eyebrows; he'd only been asleep for half an hour. _Wow._

"P-please stop. Dean, help me," Sam groaned, tears trickling out from under closed eyes.

"Sam, wake up kiddo. It's just a nightmare," Dean whispered, gently squeezing his brother's shoulder.

"S-stop!"

Dean snapped his hand back, thinking that Sam was talking to him. _Aw, Sammy._

"Stop t-touching me, please," the younger Winchester sobbed. "J-just let me go."

Dean's heart pounded in sorrow and anger. Sorrow, because he hated seeing his Sasquatch of a brother so…so scared and little; and anger, because now Sammy was having friggin' nightmares all 'cause of that dick-wad demon. He moved closer to Sam's head, putting a, hopefully, assuring hand on his brother's chest and began talking.

"Sam? Sam, listen to me, listen to my voice, 'kay? I _need_ you to just listen to my voice and wake up. You'll be okay; I'm gonna be right here when you wake up. Nothing bad is gonna happen to ya as long as your awesome big brother is around."

Suddenly, Sam gasped and his eyes flew open. As Dean sat out of the way, Sam shot up, his arms flying wildly around and nearly whacking his older brother in the jaw.

"Sam! Sammy! Easy, Tiger; come on, you're okay. I gotcha, Sammy. No one's gonna hurt you, alright?" Dean coaxed, grabbing Sam's recently dressed wrists.

Finally, Sam stopped and looked around, realizing where he was. Then he found his brother's eyes- his bright, concerned filled green eyes.

"D-De-ean?" Sam said through gasping breaths, struggling to get it under control.

"Yeah, Sam, it's me. You're okay, I'm here."

Without a warning to the older the Winchester, Sam began bursting out into tears, putting his face in his hands. Dean almost starting crying; seeing his brother so broken made his heart ache. Ignoring the fact that this was a going to be classified as a 'chick-flick moment,' he grabbed Sam and wrapped his arms tightly around the kid's back. He brought the trembling kid to his chest, the tears already soaking through the fabric of his shirt, and squeezed him. Sam needed a rock right now, and Dean- since the day their mom died- was that rock.

~+SPN+~

John tiredly walked down the hall, scrubbing his beard with his calloused hand. He had injected the nurse with a sedative and then inconspicuously brought- or more like dragged- the guy to the nearest supply room. He'd wake up with, hopefully, no recollection of what happened. Now he was on his way to Sam's room, because he knew Dean would be there; there was no doubt. When he got closer, he heard faint crying and soft whispering floating out from the room. He walked slower and quietly crept up to the door for Sam's room.

"You're fine, Sam. I gotcha, I'm right here. No one's gonna hurt you," he heard his eldest son whisper.

He poked his head out from the doorframe and saw a saddening yet heartwarming sight. Dean was holding on to Sam protectively while Sam was trembling in his grip, his arms scrunched in front of his chest, his cheek plastered against his older son's chest and sobbing that racked his entire body. He smiled sadly, proud of his son for being there for Sam; proud that the big brother role never seemed to weaken. John sighed and he turned away, heading back for his room and hearing the sobs fade with distance. Dean needed time alone with his little brother.

~+SPN+~

The crying, finally, began to cease, only leaving sniffs in its wake. Light tremors ran through Sam's body, and every time they did, Dean could feel it and he would whisper and shush his brother until he felt the tremors lessen. Five minutes later, the tremors stopped, and Sam's body tilted more against Dean's. The older Winchester looked down carefully and saw that Sam had cried himself to sleep. _Girl._ His tear streaked face was finally looking peaceful and it made Dean relax. He grinned as he shifted Sam carefully and moved himself onto the bed. Sam stirred at the movement, but Dean quickly coaxed him back to sleep.

"Shhh, it's alright, Sammy. I gotcha, just go back to sleep."

Sam seemed to hear him and he instantly silenced again. Leaning against the backboard of the hospital bed, Dean moved Sam's upper body into his lap and began carding his fingers through Sam's curls. Taking a deep breath, he rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes. He was definitely _not_ going to sleep, because that already resulted in all hell breaking loose. It would just be a cat-nap, and if anything happened, he would be up in 2 seconds flat.

"You're gonna be okay, Sam. I'm here for you, kiddo." With that, Dean closed his eyes, still running his hands through his brother's hair.

~+SPN+~

Sam took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the smell of disinfectants and some sort of a leathery scent. Shifting a bit, he found it somewhat difficult to do so. Someone was holding him…but who? His heart beat hard against his chest, fearing the worse; he scrunched his nose up in confusion before blinking his eyes open slowly. He saw arms loosely wrapped around his own and he felt a leather fabric- a familiar leather fabric- touching his bare skin. _Dean._ He craned his neck upwards and what he saw made him grin. Dean was, what Sam _thought_, sleeping, his mouth slack and, for once, he was snoring softly. He chuckled quietly, opening his mouth to get ready to tease his older brother.

"Don't say a word, kid, if you know what's best for ya," Dean suddenly grumbled, his eyes still shut.

Sam's eyes enlarged in innocence. "What, I wasn't gonna say anything, except…"

"Don't you dare, Sam."

"…this is…"

"I'm warning you."

"…a total chick-flick moment and it ought to go in our book of "chick-flick moments that 'never' happened."

Instantly, Dean gently slapped Sam on the head, but he grinned. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his brother.

"How're ya feelin'?"

"Fine."

"Hmm. Why don't you start over and tell me the truth, huh?"

Sam huffed and gave Dean his best bitch face/ I-hate-you look. "Fine. I'm feeling a little better, but my wrists still sting, my arms hurt like a mother and my stomach and chest are sore."

"Man, that must suck out loud," Dean whispered. He made a move to pat Sam's cheek, but when his skin came in contact with Sam's, the younger boy flinched.

"Hey. You alright? Did…did that son of a bitch touch you anywhere else?"

"N-no, just…it felt weird….it wasn't you. You do it, because…well, you're my big brother, but him…he was…"

"A sick bastard who deserved to go back to hell, probably even worse than that. Don't think about it anymore, okay Sam? He's gone and I won't let him- or _anyone_- hurt you again."

Sam looked up at his brother and smiled. "Thanks." Sam knew Dean was leaving some things out. Like the part about how stroking his hand through Sam's hair or on his face calmed him and not just Sam. Sam knew that, but he didn't want his big brother to know that he knew.

"Stop chick-flicking, Samantha," Dean warned lightly.

"What?" Sam scoffed. "You get to say that, but when I say it I get a slap on the head?"

"Yep."

"That's not fair," Sam grumbled.

"It totally is. Big brother knows best and big brother is better than little brother, got it?"

"Whatever…jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam lightly elbowed Dean in the gut, and a gush of air came out of Dean's mouth.

"Ow! You're lucky you're injured right now, because when you are all better, I'm gonna kick your ass for that."

"Okay, sure."

"I mean it," Dean said in a lighthearted serious tone.

"Mmhm."

Sam voice had sounded weaker. Dean frowned and looked back to his brother. His eyes were closed and his breathing was becoming deeper and evening out.

"Go to sleep, Sam."

"…"

The kid was already out. Dean rolled his eyes, but closed them as well. He was spent since the beginning of this whole damn mess. Time for some much needed sleep. He tightened his grip on his brother and he drifted off.

**Five days later:**

"Sam…Sammy. Up and at 'em college boy. Damn, you're a heavy sleeper." Dean was in his brother's hospital room, getting ready to wake up his brother. Well, attempting to anyways. _What to do, what to do. How am I gonna wake up little brother?_ "Sam!" Still nothing. The heart monitor was beeping strongly and Sam chest was moving so Sam wasn't…dead. Dean winced; he still hated the damn word and he nearly choked every time he thought of or heard it. He smiled, though, watching his brother sleep. He'd gotten better during his long stay and now he was able to leave. Good for Dean, because he was bored out of his mind. Dad had left, but not without spending a night with his youngest son while Dean caught up on some rest. Speaking of resting, Sam had slept most of the time, but Dean didn't care. He liked watching Sam sleep. He knew if he said that aloud he'd get strange looks and maybe a 'what the hell, you creeper,' but it made him relax, it made him know Sam was okay. He put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"Come on, Sam, I wanna leave this place in my rearview mirror, let's rise and shine."

…

"Ugh! Guess it's the hard way then, huh Sammy boy?" Dean walked into the bathroom with an empty cup. He filled it up; making sure the water was cold and he strolled back over to Sam's bed.

"I didn't wanna have to do this, Sammy," he sighed in remorse.

He titled the cup over Sam's head and the ice cold water began pouring onto Sam's hair and forehead. An instant reaction was received as Sam's eyes snapped open and he sat up.

"Dean! What the hell, man?" He shouted, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Sorry, sleeping beauty, it's time to get up. We're leaving in an hour."

Sam groaned as he plopped back onto the pillows. "I hate you."

"I know you do," Dean grinned, tossing a towel to his brother and sitting at the edge of Sam's bed. He looked at Sam, watching his brother wipe the water off his face. He gave a small smile, but hoping Sam wouldn't notice. He did.

As Sam dried of his shaggy hair, he sensed eyes on him. He looked up and caught a smile disappearing from Dean's face.

"What? Why were you looking at me like that?"

"I wasn't looking at you like anything."

"Yeah, Dean, you were and you've been doing that a lot lately."

"It's nothing, Sammy," Dean said standing up and facing away from his brother

"Dean, that's a load of bull. Come on, just tell me, _please_."

_Damn. That was Sam's begging voice. And he knew what came after begging. Don't turn around, Dean, don't turn around. You'll get drawn into his trap._

"Dean, please."

Dean ignored the voice, unable to hear any more of his brother's begging. He instantly regretted it when his eyes locked onto his brother's big puppy dog one. _Dammit, he hated when Sam pulled that on him._

Dean sighed in resignation, washing a hand down his face.

"Dammit, Sam," he muttered and went to go sit back down on the bed, but more closer to his brother. "It's just, I don't know, everything. From when it all started to where it all ended. I mean, from the way that bastard demon…touched you to when you were dead. Sammy you died! Doctors said it was a freakin miracle that you're alive right now. Do you understand how much I would've hated myself if you didn't live? Do you know I probably would've drunk myself to death, because of all the _guilt_ weighing down on my chest, so much that I wouldn't be able to breathe?"

Sam sighed. There was still something he hadn't told Dean. "Yes, I do know."

Dean frowned. "Y-you do?"

"I know I died, Dean, because…I saw mom and Jess." Sam chuckled humorlessly. "When I saw them, I…I wanted to stay there so freakin' bad. I was close too, you know, to the light. I was thinking about…"

"About leaving me…you were gonna leave me and dad?" Dean whispered. "Sam, how could-"

"But then mom, she showed me what would happen if I stayed dead. She showed me dad, he pretty much hated you once he found out how I really died. She showed me you; god, it was…horrible. All you would do was drink and hunt and drink and hunt. You ignored dad, told him off actually, and every time Bobby tried to get through to you, you'd yell at him. The-the worst part was…I _saw_ you die, Dean. You'd drink so much, you'd get sick, and pass out too many times to count and then one day…the anniversary of my death…you gave up. You had like ten fricken beers, dude! Then, you downed a couple pills…dry, and I watched you struggle for a breath, y-your face it…it turned blue and you puked your guts out. Then in the end, you went into a seizure, Dean and…that was it. You d-died." Sam took a shuddering breath, wiping the escaped tears off his face with the back of his hand. He didn't dare look at Dean, but he figured his brother was as pale as a ghost. "So, that's what made me fight to live; I knew mom and Jess were always gonna be there…in Heaven, waiting for when the time is right. I knew that I couldn't leave you and dad- especially you," Sam finished off in a whisper.

For two long minutes, the room was silent, Sam keeping his head down and Dean…Dean was just staring at his brother in disbelief.

"My god," he whispered. "Sammy, I…I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Sam nodded, so slightly Dean almost missed it. But his little brother didn't even lift his eyes.

Dean grimaced and sighed. "Sam, come on man, look at me." But he didn't. Dean moved closer and raised Sam's chin up with his finger. Sam's eyes looked to the left, still avoiding eye contact with his brother.

"Sammy, please….look at me."

Finally, Sam slowly lifted his eyes, his brown eyes locking with Dean's green ones. Dean heart broke when he saw his brother's wounded puppy look.

"Shit, Sam," Dean began, placing his slightly shaky hand on Sam's cheek. "You know I would never leave you, right? I promise. But _you_ gotta promise that'll you won't leave me either or that you'll go through hell and high waters to stay alive, okay?"

Sam gave Dean a small smile and nodded. Dean smiled back and ruffled his brother's floppy hair. Then, unexpectedly, Dean grabbed Sam, bringing him to his shoulder, and hugging him tightly.

"Yeah, bitch, I know it's a chick-flick moment. Don't say anything to ruin the moment."

He felt Sam chuckle and he smirked. He didn't care if this was a chick-flick moment. Guys could make fun of him all they wanted, but this was his little baby brother and he was way too close to losing him forever. He wanted to hold on to Sam and never let go, but Sam was a fidgety kid, and he would eventually want to pull away from Dean. So, he broke the embrace and held his brother at arm's length.

"What do ya say we blow this joint, huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, this bed is so uncomfortable."

"Stop whining you bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean grinned as he patted Sam's back and handed him a bag of street clothes to go change into.

"Hurry up! I saw they were giving away free pie at a store down the street. I want me some pie, Sammy!"

Sam scoffed as he shuffled into the bathroom and shut the door. Dean laughed as he sat down and waited for his brother. Three minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom in his usual clothes, eager to leave

"Come on, grandma, I'm starved."

"Yeah, same here; this hospital food is crap," Sam grumbled.

Dean gave a simple smile as they walked out of the room, down the hall, and out of the hospital. Sam smiled, closing his eyes and letting the sun shine on his face on his pale face. He hasn't been outside in a while and he missed the breeze on his skin and the warmth of the sun.

Dean looked at him strangely. "Okay, Snow White, finish up here… Girl," he muttered, shaking his head and walking away.

Sam opened his eyes a glared after his brother. He trotted up to him and playfully shoved his brother.

"What the hell, man!" Dean shouted, but laughing.

What would he do without his Sammy?

Also, what would he do without pie?

**The end. **

** The ending wasn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I hope you like it :) and I hoped you like reading the whole story. Boy, the Winchesters have come a long way since the dare huh? Anyways, thanks for reading and I'm sure another great idea for a story will come up soon. Review!**

**-McGeeklover :)**


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